Song of the Virgin
by isis black
Summary: A fallen Harad Preiestess finds new strentgh again in the arms of an Elf Prince.
1. Default Chapter

Don't own it...

Chapter One

Song of the Virgin

The procession moved along in a single file down the long dirt winding road. Toward a destination wrought without hope. Down the road the men began to chant the beginnings of an assured victory, a victory to their long forgotten ancestors. A victory to the glory that lay ahead in the service of the dark lord. It was on this dark day that three young woman found themselves among the fray of the chaos. Three young priestesses, whose service was not one of healing or of piece, but of destruction.

For within them the men were assured their victory, in the song of the virgin. It was an ancient tradition among their people. The temple maidens chosen since birth to live their lives in the service of the great elephant headed goddess Marinia. To praise her in the only manner befitting of such a great and giving deity, to sing. To raise their voices in praise of her so that she might reward her warriors upon the battlefield. Just as they had in ancient times.

And the tradition was to carry on. For today there were three young maidens from the temple riding along the paths to glory and most assured victory. The caravan consisted of about sixty warriors this day. All in the service of the great goddess, their duty to protect the voices of the holy goddess.

But all was not to go as planned this day.

"Maven are you all right?"

The young priestess the youngest in the group turned her head sharply as she broke her attention away from the never ending dark expanse of the road before them. For six days they had traveled, and the only thing to please her dark brown eyes had been the light from the sun. There was nothing but the dark fold of road before them, and the men chanting their chants of victory. It warmed her in the beginning only now...Now it seemed a warning of the events to come. It had never been her choice to come, never been her choice to be a priestess.

She nodded swiftly and tried to muster a weak smile. She didn't know why but the other two girls always looked to her for assurance. As the youngest it didn't seem fair, but she was by far the most talented of the three. Her voice had saved many men before in situations were their very lives hung by a thread. The goddess had blessed her with such gifts and more. But those she kept to herself.

"I am fine Sara. How is Loren?"

Sara shrugged her shoulders and turned to look at the third girl in the party Loren. She was sound asleep on a bundle of pillows. The three of them had been put in a covered wagon with nothing but the finest clothing and bedding to keep them comfortable that Harad money could buy. It was very lovely thought Maven, if it was not a precursor to what lay at the end of their journey. And more and more she knew that none of them would return from.

Maven smiled genuinely. "It's nice to see that all this traveling has not kept her down or from feeling at ease. I can not say if I could do the same. We should be there soon." She whispered, the tone in her voice was betraying her. It wasn't something she had meant to say in such a fashion but it was quite clear that she was admitting her fear.

"Maven," began Sara, "I know that you afraid. I am to...this is my very first time away from home and the temple. I do not wish to die here. It is not the true wish of the goddess if you ask me... Though I am sure I will be punished for such a thought. But I simply don't. Our voices should be used for healing and joy...Not the vanity of men".

Maven was so shocked at her companion's words all she could do was stare at her, what true words she had just spoken. She hadn't expected such a statement from Sara. Not once in many years had she said anything remotely like it. It was oddly comforting to hear words spoken that had so echoed through her mind since she was a child.

"I agree Sara...I agree. But I must warn that you to keep these thoughts between only the two of us. If the men were to hear of such statements they might very well kill us. You see we are all that they have left, they believe in us. It would devastate them to no ends to know that...well..."

"I understand Maven. How many more days..."

"Not many, in fact I suspect hours until we reach the river and eventually the "fallen city" as the men have been calling it". Replied Maven. The Fallen City was what the men had also called Osgilith. From what Maven had overheard once the city was the foundation of men, a great corner stone in the west were men from all over middle earth flocked to. It was a haven for all men. Trading, history and knowledge were said to exist there in the great city of men. But as the caravan approached it's outskirts she guessed that she had been lied to.

She peeked her head from behind the dark red curtain to gaze upon their approach. There was thick smoke in the air and fires. The very road itself was littered with fallen men and Orcs alike. Their broken bodies strewn about like broken statues. It was the most horrible thing she had ever before seen. She noticed Sara try to look past her and she instantly dropped the curtain refusing to let her see.

She watched as her friend's hazel green eyes grew wide in anger. "Why can't I see?" She snapped. Maven looked away from her not sure how to react. It was her right to see it. And in a matter of hours they would all see it, with no veil or curtain to shield their innocent eyes from the cruelty of war. She had been wrong, but she only meant to delay the fear that would effect them all once the battle begin.

"You don't want to see it Sara"

"And why shouldn't she?" Came the sharp voice of Loren. Loren was considered to be very wise in her years and training as a priestess. One whose strange and exotic beauty was something of a peculiar interest to men. Every where she went men followed her and watched her with the deepest stares and lust filled sighs imaginable. For unlike Maven and Sara who had dark features as was common among their people. Loren's mother had been a woman from the land of Rohan. Her skin was paler in comparison, her eyes a light blue like the sky, her hair a dark honey gold. It was still quite clear that she was a woman of the south, a true Harad maiden but it was also clear that she was a mix of something else.

No one quite guessed how a man from Harad had come to have a daughter of such unlikely parentage, and Loren herself never liked to talk of it. By the standards of their society she was considered an aristocrat. Her family had been in many battles and attained much wealth and high position. It was only by her own volition that she was among this party off to war. She would have felt shamed to not be among the throngs of ancestors before her and have stayed behind. Instead she jumped headfirst into the caravan and declared that her voice would be heard over all others. To a victory.

Maven liked Loren but there was always something hidden within Loren's demeanor that always warned her not to trust her. A woman's intuition she supposed. "Why Maven? Because this is her duty this...," and she pointed to just beyond the curtain, "is her destiny. Indeed the destiny if us all. Do you deny this?" She asked curtly.

Maven swallowed hard. It was always like Loren to put her on the spot, to try and shame her humiliate her even to gain praise in the eyes of others. But not this day. "Destiny? It is not our destiny! Our destiny is to live in peace among all men, both those of Gondor and of our own lands. This war is filled with nothing but men's bloodlust and senseless need for power. I shall only do my best in the coming days to heal the wounded not be apart of the destruction of life".

"Heritic! Why are you among us if you feel this way?" Shouted Loren now sitting up straight pointing her long perfectly manicured finger at her. Maven rose to meet her ire.

In the middle of this fight was Sara who tried to keep the two from each other by extending her hands and telling them both that they were merely tired and to relax.

"RELAX? Is this what you think would ease the problem Sara, to relax. No, I tell you Maven will cost us many with her doubt. With her mind on helping the enemy, those men of Gondor! She is not on our side I tell you. She conspires against us!"

'That is a lie!" Snapped Maven.

"Is it now, I heard what you two were just talking about. Do you think I am a fool Maven, or you Sara. Though I do not fault you Sara. Maven can be very convincing with her silence and her talk. It is a dark art you practice Maven".

"Enough! The both of you!" Yelled Sara. It was then the three of them noticed the wagon had stopped. A moment later the flap of material opened to reveal Captain Morven. He was a very respected man among their people and this was to be his tenth battle in his lifetime. He wore many badges of honor, counted by the number of bearcat's claws that adorned his neck. His face was covered in red and gold paint and his head was completely shaved clean. Only the dark contrast of his eyes peered out at them. And each girl bowed to him respectfully.

"What's this noise going on in here?" He asked in his deep voice. Neither girl spoke all to afraid of causing a further scene or disrespecting such an honored Captain with their petty disputes. When none of the girls spoke he bid them to each exit the wagon. With a collective sigh each girl gathered up the fabric of their long white and gold robes and took the Captains hand as he helped them down from the Wagon.

Maven noticed Loren shooting her a wicked stare and then a cocky smile as she took the Captains hand. It was clear that there was to be a bad vibe between them from here on out. Maven had always known that such a thing was bound to happen. There had never been much love lost between them. But what saddened her the most was the look on Sara's face. She wouldn't meet here eyes anymore. As though she were shamed to have associated with her. In that moment she cursed Loren under her breath.

"Young priestess behold. The fallen city lay before us. Soon the battle will be underway. As the leader of this brigade it is my duty to see to you safety. It has been many passing of the sun since women have set foot on the battlefield to lift their voices in praise, to honor their men. To give us victory. Very soon now the Orcs will cross the river. I ask each of you to be brave, and give us hope in these hours to come".

His words inspired Maven and she bowed to him in spite of herself. She hated war and the waste of life among all men. But nor did she wish to see such an admirable man perish if she could help it. She would sing until her voice could no longer reach the heavens. Her spirits were renewed.

He left the three of them and made way to prepare his men. It left them alone beside the wagon caravan. And it only took a minute for the confrontation of minutes ago to resume as it had been it was Loren who instigated the fray.

"Did you hear that Maven? He wants us to give his men hope, not sing our praises for the sympathy of our enemies". She snapped bitterly. It made Maven want to scream at her, to shout back how completely out of line she was behaving. Loren never understood anything she had to say. She was almost always at odds with her. And it would not cease. In that moment Maven decided to let Loren have her way, to remain positive in spite of the hard cruelty in her words.

"I shall give hope to our men Loren. And that is all I shall do here today and as long as needed. May we all do the same". Replied Maven.

The look on Loren's face was priceless; she was so stunned that words could not begin to describe. Loren had been expecting another drawn out fight; it was what she wanted. To prove her status and ranked authority over the three of them. But to her surprise the younger girl bowed out gracefully. A feeling of the deepest hate welled up inside her and began to fester.

That night the men rested and made camp. The battle had still yet to come their way and the men made one final feast to welcome it when it did. There was singing and dancing among the men as they filled each other's cups with the strongest ales and cider ever made among their people. Captain Morven sat in at the edge of the circle among his men by the fire and raised his cup again and again to the fallen warriors who were already on the battlefield.

The three young maidens sat on the opposite side of the circle of men, each with a cup of holy wine in their hands. Taking the smallest of sips. Maven felt the eyes of Loren on her all evening long, and watched in sadness as Sara still refused to look at her. Instead Maven lifted her eyes to the heavens and wondered what life was like among the other peoples of this strange land. While she lived in the temple she had had the privilege to be educated and read many books on Gondor, Roahan and even about the legendary Elves. She had to admit that it was the story of the Elves that most captured her attention. And on this night before battle she had picked out an Elven constellation in the northern sky.

It was of a young maiden who had fallen in love with a mortal man. It was certainly not a happy tale in the slightest and she didn't understand it herself just now. On the eve of a battle that she would even think of a young woman who had lost her life. When the morning might very well bring her own. But somehow it warmed her, inspired her. For the girls life was not always so filled with impending doom.

She became lost in her thoughts as she often did when she heard the voice of Captain Morven dragged her from her thoughts. "Yes Captain". She replied, Loren had begun to giggle and mock her. Sara appeared nervous and unsure.

"I would have you sing us a song now, fill our men souls with the beginnings of their victory on the morrow. Sing us a great song".

She became nervous as she looked around the great gathering of men, her people. What song should she sing that would warm their hearts? What peace could she give them of the days ahead? She had stalled for too long and in that short span of time Loren stood up and offered her won song in Maven's place.

"Great Captain perhaps one of my songs might..."

"I have a song Milord". Exclaimed Maven as she cut off Loren's rude abruptness. The Captain smiled at the two of them and then cleared his throat. "Yes I would hear a song from each of you this night. Maven shall begin, sing us a song that would warm your heart as well. For we all need to hear your strength in every note you breathe".

In those words alone she found her courage, she would sing them the song of the long lost elf maiden. It was in that moment the thought that was warming her heart. She would sing it and express through every line her deepest heartfelt emotion. She would sing it to them in its original format. The only bit of elvish she knew...

She began to sing. And the air became deadly still as she did. For no men or women of the Harad dared to sing such a hymn in the language of another people. There was an instant outcry among the men. Loren and Sara seemed horrified as well. Many men began shouting over her soft and delicate voice. And she very nearly missed the most important part of the song, as she became aware of them.

But it was Captain Morven who called them all to silence as he pulled in closer to hear the strange song. He had never heard the language of the Elves. And it pulled him in to hear one of his own people so fluent in the tongue. It was over now as Maven carried the last note up to the heavens, her eyes fell upon the constellation of Luthien and she made a silent prayer. Then she lowered her eyes and her voice trailed off, her song complete.

A great roar erupted from the men as each man raised his cup to her in respect. Many of them shouting for another song the strange elven tongue.

"Priestess Maven your talents in song have long been hidden from your people if you could always sing that song thus as you did now. It fills my men with hope. I thank you...We shall win in battle tomorrow!" He shouted and raised his cup calling for her praise and the men responded. Maven noticed that Sara was once again looking at her and smiled when their eyes met. Maven nodded, it felt good to see Sara no longer ashamed at the sight of her. Loren refused to meet her stare and turned away sharply.

Sara stood to sing next. She too warmed the hearts of all the men, but not to the capacity as Maven had. But there was a warm smile upon her face when she completed her song. There was a deep pause when Loren began to sing, and her feelings of anger were very present in her tone. The air grew thick with tension and the men detected it. In their minds her voice worried them, told them of a red dawn come the morning and some men covered their ears unwilling to hear more of Loren's song. Once her song ended there was a growing dread among the men. Captain Morven called order and commanded Loren to sing a song of summer to assure the men that her voice could harbor victory, instead of the somber tune she had just sang. Loren's blue eyes seethed quickly and she sang another song there after. Maven watched as the men found comfort in her second song. And when she had finished there was applause among the men.

"Very good Loren. I would ask that you keep hate from your heart if our men are to rise to victory. Such feelings can only lead us to despair if you are not careful". He warned. Loren nodded respectfully and soon after left the circle of the camp for the comfort of the wagon. Maven felt sorry for Loren and no matter the bad air between them she wanted to help her fellow priestess overcome her bitterness.

Maven awoke with a start as the sound of an arrow pierced the stillness of the morning air. There were several screams in the distance followed instantly by the sound of more arrows. She barely had time to think when she saw Sara throw back the curtain of their wagon to reveal smoke and fire. The battle had begun. She shouted at Sara to pull back the curtain and with fear now taking hold Sara did as she was asked.

A quick glance around there bedding and Loren was no where to be found. The noise from the battle was nearly deafening as the screams of men and now orcs filled every inch of the air. The smell from the foul beasts began to make Maven sick. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and tried in her own panic to remain clam and find a way to help. After all they had been prepared for this, trained to ignore their own fears and think of the men out there fighting. She wanted to sing but lost her nerve.

"Oh gods Maven it's started! What shall we do...?" Cried Sara as she hugged herself tighter and tighter. Neither of them was at all properly dressed to go running off anywhere.

"Get dressed and quickly lest they find us. We need to get as far away from the immediate battle as possible and then we can do what is that we came here to do!" Assured Maven as she tossed off her night robe and donned her holy robes. Within minutes both girls were dressed as two arrows pierced the cloth curtain that had been hiding them away from the world.

"Oh no! Where is Loren!"

Maven took a deep breath before replying. She couldn't think of Loren at that moment something told her that the other girl was already in the thick of battle somewhere. Even though she heard no singing she was sure that Loren was safe. "Don't worry about her I'm sure she will be fine...Here". She said and handed Sara a ruby handled dagger. Daggers were forbidden among the holy order and in Harad society only men were allowed to arm themselves. For a priestess to have a weapon was punishable by exile or death. Given the situation Maven opted for banishment. If the two of them lived through this long enough. She saw the refusal in Sara's eyes at the mere sight of the weapon and gave her the shortest lecture she could think of with all the screams in the air. "Listen Sara I don't want to die here any more than you do. This is our duty to live and sing for our men...To give them hope and power through our songs! Well we can not do that if we are dead. So here please take the dagger to protect yourself. If we live through this long enough I will take all blame...Now here!"

Sara nodded and with shaky hands she took the weapon. Maven armed herself with two other daggers; gold handled one and an ivory handled blade with an emerald in its hilt. She had brought one for each of them but Loren was no where to be found. Again she tried to assure herself that the other girl was all right. There was a loud boom just outside the wagon and before either girl could react the wagon slowly tipped over with a loud crash.

There was blackness before them for a moment before the snarl of Orc's awoke them. Maven opened her eyes in shock as she came face to face with what could only be an Orc. Its eyes were a sickly green and it's skin like rotting black flesh. It sneered down at her sword in hand and brought the weapon up over its head ready to strike.

Maven rolled swiftly out of the way as the clang of metal clanged with the hard earth. She screamed. It was the wrong thing to do, as it quickly drew the attention of several more Orc's. Frantically she reached for her weapon and sprang to her feet.

"Hello pretty..." Snarled the Orc. It locked eyes with her for some time before it decided to attack and perhaps because she was smaller she was able to dodge. The Orc cried out in anger to have missed its target again and just as it was turned to seek her out a silver blade protruded from its dark belly.

"Bitch..." It hissed before the weapon drew back and the dead Orc fell to the ground with a thud. Maven barely had time to register her first kill when she saw Sara coming to not more then a few feet away. She dashed towards her and grabbed her arm hard pulling her to her feet.

"Maven...by the gods. What have you done..."

But Maven was to filled with rage and the instinct to live to reply. She ignored Sara opting instead to try and save their lives. She pulled Sara along with her as they made there way through what was left of the encampment. The sight of blood was everywhere and there was no spot on the dark earth that was not tainted with it. She nearly lost her stomach, but pushed the sensation aside.

There had to be away from the massacre. That's when she heard the sweet voice of a woman singing. She was certain now that she knew what it felt like as a warrior on the battlefield to hear such a sound. It did fill her with hope and strength. She made her way towards the sound of that voice dagger in hand fending off more Orc's as they crossed her path. To her shock she noticed that the area was covered with the bodies of her countrymen and there were more Orc's then humans as far as her dark eyes could see. They had been outnumbered...and yet all at once there was no reason for the Orc's to have attacked. It was after all the men of the west, of Gondor that they were all fighting against. Her people had been foolish to answer the call of Mordor.

As she rounded the next turn she saw Loren standing on the top of an old barrel. There was a luminous light that surrounded her as she raised her hands toward the sky. Her song was sweet much kinder in tone than last night. It filled the area with a glow and a warmth, an aura than appeared to hold off the Orc's. They clutched their hands over their small pointed ears and shrieked in terror at the sound.

The look on Loren's face as she sang caused Maven to loose her grip on Sara's hand and she too began to lift her hands to the sky to sing. As she took her first note she noticed that the area was nearly clear of Orc's. A third voice began to sing and soon there was a peace in the midst of what was a kill zone.

But it was not to last. Maven noticed a tall dark figure that appeared to have been riding a beast approach them quickly. It moved much faster than a horse, in fact it appeared to be a wolf. She panicked for a moment but opted to keep on signing. Perhaps the closer the beast got the sooner it would find that it could not enter the circle. And flee.

The shadow figure came closer and closer and with the next blink of an eye it emerged. Her song broke off as she saw that it was armed with a weapon, a bow. It aimed for her and she dropped to the ground. There was a loud ear piercing scream to her left, and she turned to her horror to find Sara lying still in a growing pool of blood.

"SARA!" she screamed.

It was too late now. Loren's singing began to wane off as the area became overwhelmed with the strange creatures on wolves. Why had their singing not worked on them? Were these not orc's? They had to be...and yet.

The area grew thick with the strange riders and Maven looked up to find Loren, but she was no where in sight. The slight sound of a woman screaming was all that could be heard. A hand reached out and caught her long black hair and pulled on it very tightly until she was placed on her feet. Maven grabbed at the Orc's hand and began to dig her nails into it's flesh but it was no good. The creature laughed at her and spit on the ground beside her.

"That's no good wench. You and your singing are a nuisance!" he hissed at her, and she tried to pull away from his foul breath.

"Serves you right! Let go of me!"

"In do time wench". he replied. Out of the corner of her eye she could see now that Sara was indeed dead. A long crooked arrow was sticking out of her chest and her white robes were covered in dark blood. She shook her head at the sight, if she had not dropped to the ground...if she had not dragged Sara here she might still be alive. All was lost. The men in her brigade were all dead. Their broken and twisted bodies were now being trampled over by the hundreds of Orc's that had now completely overrun the area.

Tears began to streak her face and despair took hold of her heart with an iron grip. She was going to die, here alone and at the hands of Orc's. The Orc who had been holding her released his grip on her hair and she fell hard to the ground. Her arm felt numb and refused to move, she guessed it may well be broken.

The Orc's began to chatter amongst themselves now and the cries of their victory was erupting every where. Maven crawled into a ball on the ground, her vision blurry with tears. By some strange stroke of luck she was still alive. It had been an age since she had heard or seen Loren. Her fate if she was still alive to be as bleak as her own.

A path began to appear between the ranks of the Orc's as very large and husky framed figure appeared. Maven was certain she had never seen a more miserable and pathetic creature in her life. Unlike the other Orc's his skin was slightly lighter in tone. It was pale and appeared to lack all pigment, his face was twisted or half burned away. And his left arm appeared to have been mangled and was now crippled. A silence fell over the croed of Orc's as she looked from each of them towards this new and much larger Orc.

His pale blue eye gazed down at her and he cracked a smile. His sharp ragged teeth sent chills down her spine but she tried to find comfort. For very soon now she would be dead and never again have to see such horrors. It was the only thought that kept her from loosing her mind.

"Shall we eat her now Gorn? She is unspoiled and fresh..." cried out one of the Orc's. A roar of laughter and cheers followed and similar comments began erupting from all around her. They wanted to eat her? How horribly dispicable she thought. Had the gods abandoned her this day to be eaten by a horde of Orc's? She prayed not, and tried to place her hands together to offer what might be her last prayer.

The Orc's began to laugh and sneer at her. "Look she prays!" they chanted at her. All the while the Orc named Gorn stared down at her with a deceitful sneer and began to lick at his lips. Oh no...she thought. They are going to eat me...oh dear gods.

"Enough already! We have won this battle. Make camp you swine!" shouted Gorn. And within minutes every available Orc took off in a scurry. Maven tried to crawl away during the fray but a foot slammed down before her face and she jumped back letting out a scream. It was the Orc leader Gorn.

"You will be going nowhere my pretty...you will soon join your men".

"Just kill me...and be done with it." she hadn't meant to say it so loudly but the Orc heard her and sneered. "Be silent wench you will meet your gods all to soon". he laughed at her pain and reached down grabbing a handful of her hair pulling her behind him as though she weighed nothing. The pain in her arm was agonizing and she felt sure that she would pass out from the pain. The last thing she wanted to do. She could only pray that the pain might overwhelm her and send her to her death the sooner. But as she fought to free herslef from Gorns grip she had noticed that she was being dragged in the direction of what appeared to be a hut. A small make shift shanty that had recently been erected.

Her mind could not fathom it... And so she fought the Orc with a renewed strength kicking and clawing with her free hand. But the Orc made no attempt to stop her in fact it seemed to encourage his own cruelty. And he dug his hands deeper into her scalp and tugged harder until she resounded with a scream. It went on this way until he reached the hut, and with his crippled hand he managed to grab hold of the black mangled curtain that served as a door.

Maven could hear the laughter from the other Orc's as they passed by them each one complaining how unfair it was that Gorn have all the fun. That Gorn always got more than his fair share of dead foes, wine and women. Maven felt her stomach lurch and her breath freeze within her chest.

He threw her inside and she landed on cold wet earth as the Orc Gorn warned all his men to burn the bodies of the dead and to stay away from his hut. That said he turned to her and a look of pure hunger filled his pale blue eyes.

"No. Oh gods please...no" she whispered to herself her tears falling uncontrollably. Gorn laughed down at her before coming towards her an evil wicked grin stretched across his disfigured face.

Maven screamed.

To Be Continued...


	2. Chap 2

Don't own this...

Chapter Two

Vengeance

Song of the Virgin

Maven awoke slowly to the sound of men talking around her. There was pain that met her as she awoke. A dull ache in her head, her throat dry her body... Numb. She wondered at how she was still alive. She had since lost track of time it was days perhaps even weeks that she had been imprisoned. Her hands bound tightly behind her back and there had been a gag in her mouth that had somehow fallen out or been removed. She was certain of one thing as she awoke to this new day...he was still there.

The Orc who had captured her and 'claimed' her as his property. Never had she imagined such a fate as the one that had befallen her. And she tried to shove away these thoughts of what might have been in her life. Those dreams were foolish now, never to be attained. Her hope was hanging by inches and with every passing minute she prayed for a quick death as she did the moment had been captured.

As her dark brown eyes focused around her she could see that she was now alone. There was a small fire burning just near the center of the small space. The smell of something rotten filled the air coupled with the smoke of the fire and she coughed. Images of green plains and open fields called to her, reminding her that there was such a place. With clean air and ones freedom. But what were such things to her now was all her mind repeated back at her.

She would die here and she knew it. Shouts from outside caused her to pull herself tightly into a ball and she scooted as far away from the noise as possible. The small black curtain was suddenly thrust open and instantly she froze. With nowhere else to go she lay very still, trying to appear dead. Knowing it would not work.

It was Gorn the Orc followed by one of his comrades who came inside the small space of the room. They were talking in their own language, a confusing jumbles of grunts and groans that seemed to be comprehendible among Orc kind. The other Orc began to laugh uncontrollably at Gorn and with a grin tossed a coin into Gorn's crippled hand.

"Take her Barqq do what you will and then kill her before sunset. We haven't got time for much more pleasure...Must answer the call of Mordor 'fore long..." He hissed out allowing his comrade to come inside and closer to the fire.

"She's a strange lookin' one! Not like what I've heard. Gave you a good fight didn't she Gorn, aye?" He sneered while letting out an insidious laugh. Maven wished her hands were free so that she might pray. That her throat was not so dry and parched or she would sing as she had tried before. It was the wrong thing to do. Having recalled the ill effect it had on the Orc's she summoned the powers within her song. Only to receive a barrage of violence and the sting of a fist. That was days ago now. And she honestly didn't feel worthy enough to sing praise to the Goddess due to the fact that she was now soiled. No longer pure in the great goddesses eyes. A holy priestess no more.

Barqq leaned over her and observed that she was still alive for he saw her back moving in and out; up and down. He couldn't believe his luck to have moved up the ranks as a Gorn's second in command. He had spent years in the service of the great horde to become now Gorn's right hand. And as such he would now partake of all the victory spoils and that included human women.

"Got to much hair this wench, that's the first thing to go..." He said as she leaned down and garbed a loch of her long black wavy hair. She cherished her hair; it was the only thing a priestess had that could display any sort of individuality. As such she had _never _cut it and when she stood it reached the back of her ankles.

"Stop talking you and get movin or you can have your coin back. Take the woman and be off!" Warned Gorn. With a nod Barqq reached for a dagger on his belt and laughed when he saw her jump at the sound. He licked the blade that had just recently been in the belly on a man not three days past, and he wondered what it would feel like to cut her with it. Grabbing her bound wrists he made short work of the bonds and twisted her over so that she could see him.

She whimpered slightly and squeezed her eyes shut at the sight of him, hoping for it all to end quickly she made no attempt to fight. All such feelings of resistance had abandoned her. Resolved to her fate she could take the pain, this she knew. And cringed at the very idea that she even had to.

"Look at me woman! I am now your lord and master..." he spit out when she would not open her eyes. She felt the tears sting her closed lids and sobbed slightly. Still unwilling to acknowledge him. He shook her by the wrists violently and repeated himself with more ice in his tone. And was met with the same reaction, her lids were tightly shut as tiny tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

"I will brake you woman! Cut you from that pretty little head down to the tips of feet if you refuse me once more! Now look at me!". He screamed. He was trying his best to be as nasty as possible, after all his Captain was still only a few feet away watching with curious interest. He had not gotten to his newly appointed rank so easily as to let a human woman make him look bad.

Maven took in a deep breath despite that horrid smell of the room and with a gulp she opened her eyes carefully. She recoiled instantly at the sight of him. He was by far more hideous and loathsome than his Captain. His eyes were yellow-green, he had small pointed stumps where his ears should have been and his skin appeared gray. He had long black stringy hair that was tied back in with some loose string and his clothing smelled of mildew. Now that she saw him she was transfixed. Never in all her life had she seen such horrors, such evil. Having lived a sheltered and faithful life at the temple she wondered how she could have been so cursed with this fate. And in that moment she made a conscious decision to use what little strength or courage she had left to defy him. Hoping beyond reason that he had good on his promise and bury that blade in her heart.

The Orc seemed about to say something when she found her moment and spit right is face. He released her instantly and she fell to back to the floor with a loud thud. She made no motion to get away only waiting for him to strike back. And he did, reaching out he took her by the throat and pulled her up to his height and began to squeeze.

"You'll pay for that bitch!" He hissed, he was now raising his right hand back to prepare for a strike when a loud horn echoed in the distance. His hand froze in mid air as he turned to look over his shoulder. Then the cry of another horn, followed by two more. It was a call to arms. Both Orc's began to let loose with a war cry and looked around frantically.

"Four horns...It's an attack!" Yelled Gorn as he removed his crooked sword from his side and took a ready stance. Barqq hissed under his breath as he still held Maven in his tight grip. He narrowed his eyes, and she could see the reluctance in his face. He was filled with a need to hit her and continue on his torture. But the call of his service won out and he released her. Maven landed roughly onto the floor and she crawled away from him quickly. Both Orc's made a speedy exit out of the hut as the sound of hooves thundered by.

Now completely alone Maven quickly massaged her wrists and began to pull her gown closer to her body. It had been ripped and slashed in several places but was still in one piece. Enough for her to be seen in outside. For the first time she managed a weak smile, if her captors were under attack this would be her only chance to escape and to freedom.

Deciding that she was ready she made to leave when she noticed the dagger on the floor near the fire.

In all the confusion the Orc Barqq must have dropped it. She dashed down and picked up the weapon and clutched it for dear life. She was skilled with the dagger and now felt assured that she would escape with more of a fighting chance. Taking a breath she emerged from the hut and was nearly knocked over as a horse with no rider swept by.

There was pure chaos outside and she fought back memories of the last days before her caravan was attacked.

There were men from the city dressed in shiny armor on large warhorses that blanketed the entire field. Hundreds of them. She had to take several breaths before moving off into the maze of battle. There were Orc's lying dead all around her and she stepped over them not wanting to see their horrid faces in death. The cling of swords made her jump but she pressed on through the fray.

She had no clear notion as to where she was going, neither east nor west but south. That was where her home was, south of Middle Earth. To the Harad. She had hope now as she dodged an attack and took off at a blind run. There was an Orc who jumped out in front of her and she screamed and with all her might took a swipe at him with her blade. It hit the mark and landed in his midsection. He managed to wail slightly as the light from his green eyes were extinguished and he fell to the cold wet earth.

But this hardly stopped her at all and she continued to move forward in the direction of the south. She was consumed with it, getting clear of this fighting. Getting to the other side and to her what was left of her life. Many more Orc's met their end at her blade as she pressed on. There was a clearing up ahead, where no man, horse or Orc stood and she bolted towards it. All was going as planed when she saw him.

The Orc Gorn.

He was faced away from her and was only distinguishable due to his deformity. He fought with one hand, as he gripped the hilt of his sword. There were bodies all around him, warriors from the city of Gondor. Dead at his feet. And more men that rushed to attack him. He dealt each of them lethal blows and began to laugh at their folly. A rage began to well up within her. Tears of anger and of pain stung her brown eyes and she seethed. Griping her dagger tightly she watched him for what seemed like an eternity, hacking and slashing at brave warriors who all met their end at the end of his blade.

Tears of shame clouded her eyes as she recalled exactly what that beast had done to her, and what he had taken away from her. Her innocence. And not once but several times over. She could take it no longer as images bombarded her. She ran towards him, his back still faced away from her. Men watched her as she dash by them not at all believing what they were witnessing, a young dark skinned woman with long black hair shot right past them; a war cry in her throat. It was over in a flash as she buried the dagger into Gorn's unsuspecting back. And still she was not satisfied, and plunged the weapon deeper as deep as it could go. The Orc released a fevered yell and began to reach around him at this unseen person who had so attacked him.

But he was loosing blood and his life and collapsed to his knees, still trying to get at his unseen assailant. Maven took two careful steps back and away from him with a powerful need to watch him die. He didn't deserve to live after the hell he had reeked upon her. And as much as she hated violence and every possible evil that war entailed. She reasoned this creature deserved his fate. To suffer as she had.

A few men stood spellbound as they watched her stand there, blood covering her ivory dress. And in her eyes they saw a woman that had been to hell and back. And before long the battle was under way again. Maven could not move as she watched him grovel on the ground still very much alive. Somehow he had found enough strength to turn around and see the warrior who had slain him and his eyes widened when he saw a young maiden instead of a seasoned warrior.

"You..." he began as he began to choke on dark blood that began to leak from the corners of his mouth. Maven said nothing only stared down at him with fists clenched watching his life slowly seep away. All her thoughts at that moment was bent on him and his pain and how she wished she could inflict more of it. He began to laugh as he crawled near her saying nothing but hateful things.

"You'll remember me girl...long after this day...you'll remember me." He choked out as his vision began to slip away from him. A tear raced down her face as she tried to find her courage again, she had to see him dead. She just had to or she would never be free. It was a realization she hadn't thought of while he had held her prisoner.

"Shut up!" She screamed at him as she shut her eyes and tried to block out the sound of everything. She began to feel dizzy and the world felt as though it was moving under her feet.

He laughed at her and continued to move closer his crippled hand reaching for a dagger hidden in his armor. Maven shook her head violently before turning to look down at him again. He was getting closer.

"Do you think you are still so holy woman? What manner...Of man will want you? You're mine woman I claimed you first...I've put my mark on _you_ wench..." his voice was down to all but a whisper now and very soon he would die.

All Maven could do was listen and wonder at why he wasn't dead yet, that he was resisting. And still alive and with his last breath he was tormenting her. There was such poison in his words that began to effect her more deeply than she could ever have imaged and she lunged at him pulling at the dagger and twisting it out until it was free. His entire body went numb from the pain as he growled. Having removed the dagger she brought it up high over her head and was about to drive it back into him when a sharp and indescribable pain tore at her abdomen.

In shock she dropped the dagger and her hands went to her injured side. Her hands were soaked with her own blood and there was a long dark thick arrow sticking out of her. Her vision began to cloud over and she was about to fall when a pair of strong arms caught her and her world went black.

TBC...


	3. Chap 3

Don't own this...

Chapter Three

Warrior Angel

Song of the Virgin

Legolas could hardly believe his immortal blue eyes when he had spotted her not long ago. He had observed her pale colored robes and the dagger in her hands that she had been defending herself quite well with. And from that moment he had made an effort to get to her and offer his help, but he was detained. As eight Orc's and one riding a Warg encircled him. He fought them with ease and skill but could not free his mind of the woman that was now in the thick of the battlefield. With much reluctance he focused on his own fight and made his opponents wish they had steered clear of him.

And so he moved towards her only to be stopped yet again, there were less Orc's the second time around. And he stood his ground and cut each one of them down with practiced ease. By the end of the fray he could no longer see her and when his eyes again beheld her she was holding a dagger over her head about to give a final blow to a wounded Orc when an archer's arrow reached her.

With as much speed as he could summon he pushed beside several Orc's until he made his way to her. Her eyes were hazed over as he saw the shock evident on her youthful face. Her body lost its grip and she began to fall backwards when he caught her. He marveled quickly that she weighed no more than a feather in his arms. Reaching out he cupped her face and took a better look at her and was stunned by her apparent beauty. Having never seen a woman of her complexity before he was instantly curious of her and inquisitive.

The sounds of the battle drew him back to himself and he gave a loud high-pitched whistle. Turning to look behind him he heard the cry of a horse. The stallion Hasufel. A few moments later there were shouts and cries from several Orc's as a white stallion appeared unbridled through the crowd.

The stallion quickly approached his master and dipped his head low as though he were giving a bow. Legolas managed a quick smile and thanked his equine friend for such a speedy reply to his call. Reaching underneath the young woman he gathered her in his arms and laid her across Hasufel's withers. The horse jumped at the contact but soon settled down once his master was firmly mounted on his back. Legolas then gathered the girl under his right arm as he cradled her head and shoulders, and after taking hold of Hasufel's thick mane he gave a yell and off they moved through the field.

Horse and rider were one as they moved through the thick of battle intent on reaching its border. Legolas now had released his hold on the stallion's neck and sword in hand tried his best to hack at Orc's as he passed by them. Several of them tried to pull him down from his mount but both proved to be too much for the unskilled Orc's and many of them net there end under the hooves a horse. There was a clearing just up ahead and Legolas could make out the forms of a tall dark haired man and one of smaller stature. Suddenly there was the calling of Orc horns and he observed several Orc's turning away from their opponents toward its call. A retreat had been signaled. Cowards...he thought. He urged his horse on until he heard someone call out his name.

It was Aragorn who had just slain two Orc's as they dashed at him in an attempt to catch him off his guard. But they had greatly underestimated the ranger and found the sting of his broadsword. When both creatures lay still Aragorn moved off towards the Elf. Gimli however was still fighting and chasing several Orc's as they tried to flee. Orc's were now outnumbered and desperately trying to find each other and get to freedom.

"ARRR run away ya cowards! You'll soon feel the heat of my axe that's for sure!" He called out as he tried to catch his breath. Now leaning on weapon he turned to see his traveling companion arrive on horseback with a woman in his arms.

"Even in the heat of battle you manage to think of that Elf? I'm disappointed! Where's mine?" He joked. That was before he saw the blood that was emerging from where she lay. "Oh..." He said and turned his face away now ashamed.

"Legolas what have you got there?" Asked Aragorn as he approached his friend. Aragorn noticed the dark hair and skin, and the white robes she was clad in. He knew instantly that she was Harad. Though he could not understand how a woman so scantly clad could ever be involved in the rigors of war. Very strange he thought. He reached out and touched her hair that hung just above Hasufels hooves. It was amazing that the horse never tripped its length.

Legolas looked down with worry on his brow as he noticed she was growing pale. She was fading fast and there was little they could do for here on a field of war. "There's no time Aragorn we must get her to the city. She fades fast..." he warned.

Aragorn gave a nod and worry soon filled his mind as well. He called for his horse Arod, a beautiful young roan that loved nothing more than to run free. Grabing the reins he hefted himself up and extended his arm down to Gimli who mumbled about horses and their height before he joined his friend astride.

"Quickly now to the city". Called Aragorn as the three companions and the strange woman left the remains of the battlefield towards the great city of Minas Tirith.

The gates of the city were opened for them and they urged their steeds onward and into the stone courtyard. The loud claps of their horses on the stone flooring drew the attention of all those within earshot. And soon all eyes were upon them. But the pair moved on up through the city and passed by level after level of city. Each level taking them higher and higher towards the castle itself. Legolas wondered at this, for surely the healing rooms were on the first level, why had Aragorn continued to lead them up higher towards the king's domain. The though passed through his mind quickly as he felt the young woman stir in his arms. Looking down at her he could tell she was fighting death and her mouth was moving slightly. She was saying something but he could not discern any of it from the amount of noise the horses were making.

It was a moment that passed as quickly as it began and by the time they had emerged on the final level she had grown still again. He frowned for it did not look good. There was still life within her but he knew that without the proper care she would soon join her ancestors.

They halted in the king's courtyard just one step below the mighty throne room. Aragorn quickly dismounted and was met by several guards who rushed to take his stead and help Gimli dismount. "Go and find Gandalf, quickly!" He instructed them. With a polite bow many of them hurried off as he made his way towards Legolas.

"Hand her down to me".

Legolas nodded and did his best to pass the unconscious girl to his trusted friend. Aragorn took a firm hold of the young girl and did his best to gather up her loose hair before he moved away awaiting Legolas. The elf jumped down and away from his horse and followed his friend closely. Gimli strode to keep up with them, suddenly feeling left out and just the tiny bit jealous of this new addition to their party.

As the group approached the entrance that led into the castle they were met by a man dressed in long black robes and long dark hair. His green eyes studied them and his face was stern and unkind. He had his arms folded and he grimaced at the very sight of them. It was Aragorn who spoke first, "step aside my friend this woman needs aid and fast".

The man turned his head up practically pointing his nose in the air at the very sight of her. He gave a huff after studying her for a long moment. And as he took in the sight he starred the how exotic and foreign she was. How foreign and how beautiful... But these thoughts he shoved aside and put his mask of defiance back on.

"That woman does not belong here. Take her to the lower levels this area is restricted for the king, his family and guests. Not the enemy.." He chimed. Aragorn narrowed his steel blue eyes at the man at watched as the man tried to avoid his gaze. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Rightful heir to the throne of this city. You would be well to remember that in the coming days. This woman is dying and I'll not allow it. If you value your life while in my realm I suggest you step aside". He warned.

Legolas and Gimli exchanged glances at one another having never heard their friend speak that way. The man looked around at all three men and with fear of impending attack moved aside quickly. Aragorn met the mans green eyes once more before he rushed inside and down the hall stopping at the first available door he could find. Legolas thrust the doors aside for him and Aragorn strode inside rushing quickly towards the large four-posted bed in the center of the room.

He gently lay the girl there and began to remove his greaves and light armor so that he might move more quickly. It was Gimli who took note of the large expanse of the room and the high vaulted ceiling. The tapestries that beheld the white tree and a crown hanging above it. It occurred to him.

"Aragorn?"

"Aye Gimli?" Answered the ranger.

"This is the Kings room".

TBC...


	4. Chap 4

Don't own this...

Chapter 4

Song of the Virgin

Gandalf made his way down the halls with as much speed as his old bones could carry him. Staff in hand he had a look of deep concern over what he had just been told. A young woman garbed in strange clothing out there among the Orc's. Battling it would seem for her life. Having been found by Legolas and the others she was brought to the castle. With a deep sigh he tried to focus on the task ahead of him. For very soon now what was left of his fellowship would leave the city, and the one place left on Middle Earth that was still somewhat safe. For the dark lands of Mordor.

He held on to the sincere hope that they would not be too late. And that Frodo was still alive and had a fighting chance. He owed much to the Hobbit, and with all the strength he had left he would offer up his protection his very life. Even until the very end.

He took to a flight of stairs that led to the Kings halls, a group of about ten rooms that were to house the King and the Kings family. Once under the rule of the now fallen Steward, it all needed to be cleansed of his madness.

"Milord!" Called out a young guard as he entered the hall and looked from his left to his right until he located the source. The guard waved in his direction and Gandalf made quick work moving towards him.

"Milord Gandalf, this way to Lord Aragorn. They are in the Kings quarters..." he began.

"What? Very well, show me the way. From what I hear we haven't much time."

The young guard gave a nod and guided the wizard down the end of the halls. At the end of the hall the ceiling began to arch steadily upward and vaulted. Revealing that the room inside would be quite immense. There was a large chandelier of a silver and mithril crown that hung just above it. Indeed, thought Gandalf. It had been and ages since he last been in the white city and forgotten his own way around.

The golden doors were slightly ajar and he could now hear the voices of Gimli and Aragorn coming from within. With a nod Gandalf excused the guard who was no more than a boy really and stalked forward into the room. And there in the center of the room was Aragorn leaned over on the bed, his hands moving quickly over the person there, his hands covered in blood. Legolas stood by his side offering aid, but the ranger seemed not to notice the tall blonde.

Gimli was the first to see the wizard and called out to him. "Thank heavens! It's Gandalf!"

The wizard nodded at him, "What's going on here Gimli? What's this I hear of a wounded girl in need of my aid?" He questioned as he and the dwarf made their way toward the bed and the center of attention in the room. Aragorn stood instantly at the sound of his old friend's voice and wiping his hands quickly on a clean cloth tried to explain the situation quickly.

"It is good to see you here old friend. I fear it may too late for this poor girl. Legolas discovered her on the field. An arrow in her side. I've managed to remove the arrow, but I fear that she's lost too much blood. And fades quickly..." Breathed the Ranger. He was convinced that his efforts were of the highest quality. But deep down he suspected that she would not survive.

Gandlaf noticed this look on the Rangers face; he had given up on her. He glanced down to Gimli and saw a look of foreboding on his rustic face. Turning to look at the Elf he noticed a look of concern and something else. It might have been curiosity, but not quite.

"What say you Legolas? Does she want to live?" He asked hurriedly. Legolas turned to look at him with a knowing answer written in his dark blue crystal eyes. The wizard was far more understanding of the situation than the others. He understood that if anyone in the room knew if the girl was to live or die it would be him. With a sigh the Elf held fast after a breath and replied, "No she wills herself to die. I can sense much pain..."

That said Gandalf had had enough talk, if what his empathic friend was saying were true then there wasn't much time. He removed his long white robes and pushed back his sleeves so that he might work faster. Once he neared the bed and saw with his own two eyes this girl he let out a mild gasp. She was Haradrim. And not just any Haradrim Maiden but a priestess. One who served in an ancient sect, a priestess of song. He had heard rumors of her kind before. But even in his many years, he had never known it to be fact. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas all exchanged glances of wonder at this.

And it was Aragorn who managed to break the abrupt silence. "What is it Gandalf?"

"There's no time; I will need more water and fresh bandages..." He rambled on and on as he began to attend the girl. He had all that he asked for in short order and began to do his best for the wound at her side. The arrow had struck her deep, and she had indeed lost far too much blood. He surmised that she should have died instantly out there on the battlefield. But some strange force was at work looking over, that he knew for fact. He pushed aside her once white robe to gain a better understanding of her wound and sighed deeply to himself when he realized just how far damaging this wound would carry.

"This poor child," he began, "it pains me to ever have to tell her. A wound this deep on a woman will make her barren".

"What's that mean?" Called out Gimli as he tried to see what the Wizard was getting at. But Gandalf pressed on using his healer skills to address the area. Aragorn put a hand on his small friend by the shoulder and he himself didn't want to say it.

"It means Gimli that she will never have children".

Gimli's face twisted strangely and he looked down with a nod and replied that he understood. Legolas stood frozen as he looked on at the wizard and began to digest what had been said. Cursing under his breath at the Orc's to have done such a thing to one so young, and so innocent. She did not deserve it.

Gandalf sat back as he attended the last of her wounds, he could clearly see that she had been beaten not long before this battle took place. He could only surmise what kind of horrors she suffered at the hands of Orc's. And for her sake he would never voice such speculation aloud. She would live, but she would need to maintain her sanity after living though such hell.

"Gandlaf...?" Asked Aragorn.

The wizard turned to face the three saviors, "Aye lad she will live. Her body is strong, and will recover. I fear it is her mind that we need to address now, her sanity. Though I am more than capable I feel it should be you Legolas to reach out to her". he stated.

The Elf seemed puzzled for a moment. "What can I do to help Gandalf?"

"You are Elf -Kind my friend, and as such you have the ability to speak to her of mind that I never could. You said yourself she wills herself to die. You were the one who saved her, this is important. Though you may not realize it now. Reach out to her and pull her back from the brink of deaths gate". Legolas stood there a moment as he quickly considered his words. It was a dangerous task to be asked of him. She was unconscious and that made it far more of a risk. By reaching out to her bereaved mind he too could be pulled down into the depths of despair and death if he were not careful.

But only a quick glace at her, how young and how fragile she was. He could no more turn away from her, she had already captured a place in his heart. And all he could think of was the life she had once led before the rigors of war. He would see her mended and well again.

"Aye Gandalf I will do all that I can to save her".

There was a knowing twinkle in Gandlaf's eyes as he merely smiled at his young Elf comrade. Stepping away from the bed he advised Gimli and Aragorn that it was best if they left until all Legolas had completed his venture. "But Gandlaf we have a right to see this lass healed! It was our necks out there that saved her...the lot of us!" rambled the Dwarf.

Gandalf gave a quick laugh and shook his head. "Yes yes that is true Gimli. And I thank you on her behalf. But this next task must be done without you. I have not the time to explain, but know that I am proud of all that you have done for her. Aragorn your skills have given her a fighting chance. I can only hope that our Elf friend can accomplish this last one..."

Aragorn gave a knowing nod of understanding and reached for Gimli who wanted to stay and watch whatever was about to happen next. Before the two reached the great golden doors Aragorn stopped suddenly and turned to ask a puzzling question.

"Gandalf, what was she doing out there? You seem to know something friend. Far more than you are telling. When you are done here I should very much like to hear your thoughts on the matter". he said and turned away exiting the room, with a very stubborn Dwarf at his side.

Legolas wasted no time once the room was clear, he turned to look at Gandalf who stood at the end of the large bed. He was leaning on his staff and appeared very tired and weary suddenly. He wanted to ask after him, but the young girl on the bed began to move. She moaned from the pain in her side and absently reached for it. Before he could think he reached out and gently took hold of her wrists and whispered soothing words in the language of his people. Why he had chosen to speak in Sindarian even he did not understand but it appeared to have worked, for she grew steadily calm.

Releasing a deep sigh he stood back, marveling only moments later at how soft and smooth her skin was. But he did not dwell it on it long. Pushing all other thoughts from his mind he stood up straight and took several deep breaths. He closed his eyes and focused on all his energies upon her.

Slowly in his mind he could sense her and the strong wave of her emotions struck him like water breaking upon rock. She was in a tremendous amount of pain, and not only this but of sorrow. He could hear her crying but it was a faint sound off in the distance. Though he could not see her he called out to her that she was safe now, and that she was under the protection of many new friends. Yet her crying continued and in fact grew more intense.

There was nothing before him but black empty space. And he knew that he had to reach her fast and pull her away from her own despair lest she succumb to it. He found himself running towards the sound of her wailing. On and on he pressed through the darkness that was her mind.

Her cries came closer and closer and moved with stealth like speed trough nothingness until at last he found her. She was sitting on the floor in what appeared to be a hut of some kind. There was a small fire burning, and the dead skins of animals hanging from its wooden support beams. Whatever place this was to her, it was very real. For even he could smell the air in the room...it smelled of Orc.

She was huddled in a corner her arms resting on her knees, hands covering her face and head. Her long black hair spilled out behind her, long white robes soiled with dirt. She hadn't noticed him enter the small room. All he could do was stare at her just then, not fully understanding what he was seeing. This was the place in her mind that she was fearful of, a place she had been held captive in no doubt.

He took his time in approaching her and began to speak in the language of his people. It had soothed her once before, he hoped it would aid him again. Her small shoulders shook with the slightest sobs when suddenly she paused. Lifting her head just barely she seemed puzzled. He could sense little fear from her now as he observed her.

"There is no need to cry now, for you are safe". he assured while stepping closer.

"Safe?" she questioned.

"Yes sweet one. You are safe now, away from this room. With those who would keep you far from harm. Do you believe my words, the sound of my voice". he asked.

"I should be dead," she whispered aloud, "I have asked the gods to take my life. I can not take another day here...He..."

"There there, it will all be alright. You must trust in the sound of my voice. You have much left to accomplish yet in this life. Do not let yourself give in to despair. There is hope aflame in your heart. Listen to it, trust in it and let me lead you away from this dark corner of your mind".

The sound in his voice was so soft and gentle. It did reach her, and she uncurled her hands from her face and began to stand. The room was still very dim to her in the light of the fire and she could not see this 'person' who had been reaching out to her.

"Who are you..." she asked with a shaky voice.

He smiled, "A friend milady. Won't you let me help you?"

"A...friend?...Yes, please! Get me away from here...I..."

"You need say no more milady." he said as he crossed the short distance to be at her side. He knelt down carefully soothing her with the very sound of his voice as he gathered her up in his arms amazed that she did not scream or pull away from the contact. She wound her arms behind his neck and rested her head on his firm chest. Listening to the sound of a strong steady heart beat. It was unlike anything she could ever recall. Once she was secured within his arms he turned from the area and away from the foul room.

Legolas felt a great wave of sensation slam back into his body as he opened his eyes and saw that the young girl stirring in bed. Gandalf was at her side and placing a sleep chant on her within minutes. His white hair was a complete mess, as he took careful breaths between chants. Her face was calm now like a restful sleep had finally found her. Legolas recalled that she had let him help her, that she was safe now. He had brought her back from the hopelessness inside her mind. She would sleep now for many days with the amount of chants the wizard had placed on her. And in that time her body would heal and repair itself undisturbed. He wanted to sink to the floor; his own strength seemed stripped away. Connecting with her mind had greatly affected him. Though he would never let on to such a thing.

"Well done my lad, well done. It appears as though her disposition has changed. Her face has grown in coloring. And her breathing has leveled out. Yes well done indeed!".

"How long will she sleep?" Asked the Elf.

"About four days. Don't you worry this poor child will have need of that rest. I doubt she has had a rest undisturbed in quite some time. Now let us get to Aragorn and other matters at hand. I will have a maid look in on her. She will not want to see a room full of strange men when she awakes".

Legolas nodded and followed Gandalf out of the room, looking over his shoulder one last time before he exited.

TBC...


	5. Chap 5

Don't own this...

Chapter 5

Song of the Virgin

Aragorn was pacing the great halls of the throne room when Legolas and Gandalf finally arrived for what was to be one of their last meetings before the road to Mordor. There was still one more battle to fight one last chance to free Middle Earth forever from the grip of evil. And a world covered over in darkness. Gimli was seated in a large black marble chair, once the chair of the Steward. Puffing on his pipe he began to choke a bit once he laid eyes on the white Wizard and his elf friend.

"How does the lass fair?" He asked after a minute when his fit of coughing had passed. Both men were silent. Legolas gave a nod towards Aragorn and proceeded to stand beside Lord Eomyr who was now the only true representation of his people in this war. His weathered face was stern, as he had heard the news of the young woman that had been brought to the city. It disturbed him that she was one of those who fought along side the dark lord. Against all free people of the west, that she should be brought here when so many good men died angered him.

"She is resting well," began Gandalf, " I have asked a young maid to look in on her for a number of days. Her wounds should be well mended..."

"And what of those men who have died with honor out there on the field. Men of Gondor and of Rohan! That this Harad woman should be brought here...is a disgrace. She is the enemy and as such should have been left out there to rot".

All eyes turned to look at the Horseman in shock and none fell harder than the Elf beside him. That a man could say such cruel things about a young woman who had clearly been a victim no matter what side she had been on was more than cruel. He had witnessed the arrow strike her, and clearly saw the fear in her brown eyes as she fell into his arms out there among the bloodshed. That he even saw her at all among the fray was a miracle.

"Begging your pardon Lord Eomyr, I was the one who found her. And I could no more abandon a woman on a field of battle in need of help than you would. Be she the enemy or not". Replied Legolas. He tried to keep his tone clear and even, for he felt the heat of anger flash within his elven heart. At times he forgot how cruel the world of men truly was.

It was Aragorn who called some kind of order back to the room. He knew his Elf friend very well. And could clearly see the spark of fight just under the surface in those dark blue eyes. A fight between them would not bode well. Gandalf observed the tension as well and began to clear his throat. Eomyr exchanged a rough glace at the Elf whom he had never fully trusted and returned his attentions back to the matter at hand. He had to remind himself that this was not his city, and the ways of Gondor were not like those in Rohan. This was now Aragorn's domain and if he chose to house a servant of the enemy within it, he could do no more than observe.

"We have not met here tonight to discuss whom I have taken under my care and protection my Lord Eomyr. Although I will say this on the matter. The girl is young and has been severely wounded. Had my good friend not found her out there she would have died a horrible death. And I'll not see that in my realm." Stated Aragorn.

Eomyr merely nodded his head and tried not thinking of the matter further.

Gandalf let out a short smile as he heard in Aragorn's voice the beginnings of a true King. A fair king one who had long been over due in the white city. And hope flared deep within the wizard's heart. A moment passed and soon talk of war followed and carried on well into the night.

As the night wore on the meeting had concluded. Eomyr excused himself as quickly as possible. It was still very obvious his disdain in the matter of the young girl, no matter how evenly he tried to suggest otherwise. He turned to leave the room and gave a quick hard glance at the elf before leaving the room completely. Legolas never saw his look but yet he felt it as surely as a kick to his side.

"Lord Eomyr has seen his people fall victim to the evils of Sauron. He his ever cautious of all those different than himself. That includes all manner of men and Elves alike. Let his words pass Legolas. He does not understand" advised Gandalf as he watched the Rohan warrior practically flee the room.

"It matters not Mithirandir." Replied Legolas.

"What's all this now! We have a war to fight!" Yelled Gimli as he stood up from his chair and walked carefully down the flight of steps to stand beside Aragorn. "We've a war to fight. And do not have time for such squabbles".

"For once the Dwarf is right". Said Aragorn with a knowing smile on his face. Gimli nodded along suddenly proud of himself when he realized that there was a hint of sarcasm in his tone. And that he had been the brunt of a joke.

"Hey you...!"

"Perhaps now would be a good time to talk of the girl Gandalf." Said Aragorn with a look of all seriousness written on his dark features. "Yes, yes indeed. She is well my friend. As I have said before her wounds are to mend quickly with the aid of my healing, but it is Legolas that we should thank for her current stable condition. She might well have lost her mind and never recovered I fear if not for him".

Legolas merely nodded and said that he was only doing what was the right thing.

"I still do not understand what she could have been doing out there to begin with. Dressed as she was she was not a warrior. Are the ways of the men from the south so different than our own that they would send a young maid into battle.?" Asked Aragorn as he tried to understand.

"No Aragorn. The men of the Harad are a warrior culture. Like that of the men from Rohan. They are very devout to their land and their gods. Unfortunately it was this devotion to their gods that caused them to become entangled in this war. For the dark lord fooled them by disguising himself as one of their head deities. Promising riches beyond measure if they aided in the war..." Said the wizard.

"I see. They were fooled like my ancestors of old. But of the girl Gandalf. What has she to do with all this?" Asked the Ranger.

"Yes the young girl, no more than a child really. She is a priestess of song. A holy order that was rumored to accompany men on the battlefield with the power of their voices. These women were said to have immense spiritual powers. Power to ward off evil, power to add strength and courage. I have heard many more such tales. Mind you I had no idea that any of this was true until I saw with my own eyes this girl. Living proof as it were..."

"I wonder how long she had been out there?" Wondered Gimli. Now that he had more time to think of the girl, he began to worry for her. She was young, as far as he could tell by a human reckoning. So young and so frail.

The wizard thought for a moment about how best to answer that question. "I can only conclude that she was among a group of her men when Orc's attacked. Orc's know nothing of allies or any true allegiance. And as surely as the Harard were on their side they attacked them none the less. She must have been captured and held for some time. The poor child". Whispered Gandalf.

Legolas felt his stomach drop at the tone in the wizards voice. As his mind was brought back to the girl huddled up in a corner. And the room that smelled of Orc. He recalled that she had been afraid that he was an Orc, the Orc who had most likely tortured her or done far worse. He could not think of it.

"I understand Gandalf. For now we should all get some rest. We are to leave the city two days hence from now. We'll all need our strength if we are to be of any help to Frodo and Sam." Advised Aragorn as he turned to leave the hall.

"Of course. Rest is in order. We've allot to prepare for". Agreed Gandalf as they all left the vast room each with his mind on the road ahead.

One day later Maven awoke. There was a dull aching in her head. She reached up and began to soothe the ache when she noticed that her arm had been bandaged with fresh gauze. As her brown eyes began to focus on the room about her she could only conclude that she was now in some large cavern or a room that had been built of solid white stone. There were long heavy banners that were hung along the expanse of the room. Banners with the symbol of a silver or white tree, and a crown hanging just above it. A chill ran down her spine as she began to think of were she had seen these images before.

And remembered that she hadn't but had in fact heard about them from the late captain of her troupe. He had said that the men of west, of Gondor displayed such banners. These were their symbols. Panic gripped her as she sat up and realized that she was in a large bed, and that her clothing had been changed. As she moved she felt the crinkle of bandages underneath her fresh robes, robes that were not hers. She frantically shoved the material aside up and over her thigh until she could see with her own eyes. Her entire right side had been covered over, and there was the faintest bit of blood there. And she began to remember...

The riders from the city attacked. She had gotten loose and was about to flee when she saw the Orc. Tears began to flood her vision and she didn't want to remember it. For the last thing she could clearly remember was the searing pain of an arrow as it struck her. Surely with a wound like that she should be dead she thought. And yet there was the sunlight streaming down upon her from a great arch in the ceiling. The suns light warmed her spirit and assured her that she was indeed alive.

"But how...?" she questioned aloud. After a moment she checked over the rest of her body and took notice that she was indeed alive. And had been under care for some time now. All her wounds had been treated. She also noticed that she had been washed, her hair braided. She could not fathom who would have done such things for her. All she could recall from her dreams of late was darkness and a will to die. But then there was the strange voice that spoke to her in Elvish.

She thought herself delusional. It was the voice of a man, she was sure. And yet it wasn't, for it was softer. Gentler. Unlike the tone of any man from her people. Tossing her head aside she shoved away her dreams and returned her attentions back to the real world. She was alone in some strange room, unarmed and vulnerable.

Survival was the only thing she could think of once again. And she carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed and with steady feet she found the strength to stand up. Her head began to swim instantly. The entire room seemed to spin and she found herself falling back towards the bed with a thud. Cursing under her breath she made to stand again, only this time taking heavier breaths and using all her energy to truly focus on standing. This time she was successful and stood firmly. Looking around the room she searched for the exit and noticed the large golden doors on her right hand side and steadily began to move towards them.

Determination was the thing she knew anymore. The desire to live had been renewed in her thanks to an unknown voice that had spoken to her in her dreams. Though recalling her dreams was still a bit fuzzy, she did recall the voice telling her she was safe now. And under the care of friends. Which she thought utterly insane. All her people were now dead under the feet of Orc's.

She the only survivor of the group that had traveled to Gondor to fight against it. She was no fool and realized that she was a prisoner of the great city and its people. Surely they were holding her up in this room only to inflict some kind of damage and torture as the Orc's had. But never again she thought. Never again would she allow herself to become a victim.

She moved along carefully with shaky feet until she reached the door, grabbing the handle she used all her weight to push on the door. And to her surprise it was unlocked. Why wasn't the door locked? She wondered.

"Must be a trap..." she said to herself. Cautiously she poked her head out into what was a very long hall way. More banners hung from the rafters, each baring the tree and the silver crown of its king. The place was enormous she noticed, as the walls seemed to reach up higher and higher to the very heavens themselves. At the very top there were holes that had been filled in with glass, and allowed the sunlight to filter in.

The hall was deserted as she made her way out of the room. She clutched her long robes to herself and tried to cover herself from exposure. There was a chill in the air and she shivered. The white city was cold. Unlike the heat that was so very abundant on the sands of her home country. With a shiver she proceeded towards and unknown destination once more as she moved down the hall bare foot.

She could hear men talking somewhere off in the distance but their voices faded off as they moved away from her direction. She took a deep breath and continued on westward down the hall. There were many great doors, each like the one from her room. Covered in what appeared to be gold. Ornate designs of birds encrusted upon them. She could only conclude that men from Gondor were very wealthy indeed to have lavished so much on doors. Her people were not like this. Gold and silver were sacred. And would never have been used in such a frivolous manner.

And there were statutes that aligned the hall, each one with its own place. A curve in the wall had been especially carved out so that the statue was more prominent. She paused beside the statue of a woman. She was beautiful from all appearances. Her head slightly bowed and she was carrying in her arms a bundle, or possibly a child. Curiosity got the better of her and Maven studied the figure more closely. The statue was hooded and there was strange writing along the sides of the woman's robes. It was writing that she recognized. For it was Elvish. She had read little about the Elves while in the temple, from old tomes and books from men who had once traded with men from the west. To her people Elves were no more than far off tales of myth.

But here and now in this strange city she pondered for the first time actually sighting an Elf. And what that might be like. Suddenly the voices of men seemed to be drawing closer and she pulled her robes tighter to herself yet again and turned to run, when she made contact with the chest of a man.

Falling hard to floor she released a quick scream at the shock and of pain as her side felt as though it had been injured anew. Clutching at it she moaned aloud. It was a driving ache, and she felt her clothing become slightly damp. She had yet to lay eyes on the one whom she had bumped into.

"And what have we here? The young wench our new King has chosen to take pity upon. What a fool he is". said the man. Maven swallowed hard as she heard the mans voice. It was filled with a hate and venom she had not heard since...panic gripped her and she scooted away from the man. She could not look at him.

He moved along with her as she tried her best to get away from him. "What's this...trying to escape now are we? Foolish woman they should have left you out there to die among your brethren. You'll cause nothing but trouble here, dark temptress".

"Please...leave me alone!...don't hurt me..." she sobbed. She had been a fool to have stopped to look at the statute. And now she cursed herself for not moving onward towards escape. And now she never would. The strange man cut her off and knelt down before her and reached out grabbing a loch of her hair, and she instantly felt her world spin. It was just like the Orc who was about to 'purchase' her. It made her sick to her stomach, that's when she turned and saw this man who was her new tormentor.

He wore a long dark fur lined robe, and his skin was pale and dry. He had long dark black hair that was wild about his head, and his dark green eyes caught her. They were cold, and full of hatred. Hatred at her...she could not understand.

"Please..." she begged.

"There is no one around to help you now..." he said as released the loch of her hair and gripped her small chin in his hands. Her skin was the so soft, more soft than the softest of the kings silk. Her face so delicate and refined. He could hardly believe his eyes, and hated her for the stirring she caused in his loins. She was so beautiful to him, and yet so forbidden. To him, Lord Luther once chief vassal to the former steward, this girl would be the downfall of the palace. He had seen as much with his own two eyes in the sphere, the Palanthir. It never lied to the former steward and it would never lied to him. The sphere had told him that she had been sent to the palace to stir trouble. And tempt him with her every breath. She had to leave.

Maven squirmed while under his touch, she reasoned she would never allow a man to touch her again. For she had never known a mans touch to be anything but cruel and painful. She whimpered under his grip and begged steadily in every breath for release to which he only gripped tighter and affixed his unforgiving green eyes.

"Foolish woman. You are not welcomed here. Your kind shall fall by the wayside in this new world. The King will come to his senses and see you for what you are! A seducer of the flesh! What's to be done with you..." he said.

Maven called out for help as best she could when she heard the sound of feet approach and a sword being unsheathed. It rang throughout the hall like the falling of crystal, followed by the deep voice of another man.

"Release her at once or I will cut you were you stand!"

The dark haired man stared down at her for what seemed an eternity and whispered," This is not over temptress". He then released her and his entire demeanor changed. Turning to face a very angered white wizard he gave a curt bow. ""My dear Gandalf, you may put that sword away. I would not harm this poor child. I merely wanted to help her, can you not see that she is duress?"

"I am no fool Luther I have heard you just now. Filling your words with doom and destruction! Stay away from this girl, she is an innocent and under the care of the King of this city." Warned Gandalf as he put his sword away and pushed the former advisor of the steward aside. He knelt down towards the girl, and tried to offer her some kind words.

"Everything is alright now my child. You are safe" he assured her. She noticed that his face was indeed kind and sincere. Far more than the other man...and he had saved her just now from the madman with the green eyes. What kind of place was this city?

Luther quickly left the scene and ran on down the hall as he heard the voices of Aragorn and his Elf companion approach. He pushed right by them in a hurry and Aragorn recalled him from a few days ago when they had first tried to enter the Kings halls. He then noticed Gandalf knelling on the floor.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Don't own this...

Chapter 6

Song of the Virgin

"What's going on here?" Questioned Aragorn as he looked back behind him and then down at the wizard. Gandalf shook his head and creased his dark brows. Trying to warn him in some fashion. By then it was too late and he saw her. She was hunched over on the ground clutching at her side, her wound having reopened. Her face was wild with fright as she looked up at him. Aragorn felt a wave of something pass through him as he looked down at her right into her dark brown eyes. This young girl was innocently beautiful, even through her tears and pain.

"Gandalf..." he began.

"Not now Aragorn," whispered Gandalf as he turned to the girl again," What is your name my child. It's all right now, you are safe. Please..." He said as he reached out to help her stand. Her eyes grew wider and became clouded with fear. She screamed and practically jumped away from him.

"Don't touch me! Please..." She screamed. Gandalf exchanged a look of trepidation with Aragorn who stood there as frozen as any statute. Not sure what to do. It was then that Legolas moved up along side him, and turned to look down at the frightened young woman. He could not guess that what he was about to do would change the situation.

Maven shied away from him as well, barely looking at him. She was holding her wounded side tighter and tighter and she could now feel the blood as it ran through the cracks in her fingers. Her head began to swim in a haze and she felt for sure she was going to die.

Legolas stood there as transfixed as Aragorn had been. As his blue eyes looked her over he observed that her wounds had become fresh and she needed aid and rest quickly. He stepped closer towards her. Her brown eyes looked up at him, tears streaming from their corners.

"You are safe now my friend. Please let us help you. Your wounds have reopened and are in need of aid with all speed. Won't you let us help you?"

Maven gasped at the sound of his voice and felt her world spin tighter. She had heard that voice before. Never could she have imagined that it was real, and belonged to a being of flesh and blood. All she could do was stare at him that's when she noticed the intensity in his eyes. His fair skin and blue eyes...And the blond hair...the ears. Her heart beat wildly within her chest as she realized that this man was an Elf.

"You..." She whispered, as she looked harder at him and pondered if she really was dead.

"Please won't you let us help you, your wounds...?" He began as he moved towards her. His dark eyes locked with hers and he found that she was transfixed under his stare, it was a mixture of amazement, mild bewilderment and fear. He tried very hard not to scare her with the intensity he knew he was emitting, but he found himself just as captivated under her gaze as well.

"I will not hurt you milady. Neither will these men, I ask that you trust me..." He said softly as he knelt down before her. Her breathing had grown heavier and he felt that very soon now she would pass out from the shock and pain of her injuries. And yet she held firm barely moving at the closeness of his contact.

"Why am I here...?" She managed to ask as she broke away from his gaze to stare at the cold white marble floor. She couldn't look at him for one more instant; it was like looking into the rays of the sun. There was something so odd about his stare, and the fact that she could not see herself in his eyes. It was unsettling.

Legolas was struck with nothing to say and it was Gandalf who intervened to offer his assistance. "You are in the realm of Gondor my child. My companions came upon you after you had been wounded. You have been here for not more than two days, recovering. And I dare say that you need attention quickly and rest..."

"I don't understand, am I your prisoner? Why would you...Help me..." Her voice was growing far softer and it was clear that she was having trouble breathing. But she refused to allow herself to be helped by these men.

"There will be time for such talk later my child for now you need help. Legolas..." Stated the wizard. He nodded down towards Legolas who understood what was being asked of him. He didn't like the idea one way or another. It seemed sneaky to do it, but given the choice he felt it was only proper. With a quick deep sigh he shut his eyes and found the words in the old language of his people and he reached for her. His cool hands rested just above her brow as he muttered a chant, ignoring the gasp of fear that escaped her he spoke the phrase that connected his mind to hers and watched as the lids of her eyes fluttered and soon fell shut. Her body fell limp and he caught her quickly.

Lifting her up into his arms he moved away from the floor and headed towards the King's room that was now serving as a recovery room. Aragorn moved off after his friend when Gandlaf caught him gently by the shoulder. The former ranger made to question when he noticed the look on the wizard's old worn face.

"I will help him Aragorn. I would ask that you go and find Lady Eowyn. Something tells me we will have need of a ladies care on this matter before long." He advised and Aragorn nodded in agreement as he turned to leave.

Aragorn found himself at the royal stables the one place he knew he would find the White Lady of Rohan and he was not disappointed. When he rounded the large door and made the final turn into the stable halls. He could see her standing beside a beautiful black mare, a brush in hand she was poised for grooming. Her long wavy golden hair set free and was flowing behind her. Her youthful face seemed troubled. And as he made his way deeper into the room he noticed however that she was not alone. Her brother Eomer stood just off to the side dressed in his battle gear. His weathered blue eyes clouded over in discontent, he was visibly troubled.

The mare snickered and tossed her head at his approach and he spoke some quick words slightly while extending a hand the horses muzzle and soon after the beast was stilled. By now brother and sister turned their gazes upon him. Eowyn smiled gently as she greeted him. Eomer gave a respectful salute as was exchanged in the Roahn before he engaged in conversation.

"What brings you out to the stables milord. We will not leave here for hours yet?" He asked after shooting a hard glance at his sister who had continued to groom the horse. Eowyn had been out for a ride when word reached her brother whom instantly reprimanded her for what he called 'foolish and reckless behavior'. She would here none of it, and reminded him that she was a proud lady of her people and a warrior at heart. That she should be refined to the halls of any palace or kingdom when she was more than capable of aiding in war angered her.

A fight erupted between them and had only momentarily ceased when the Ranger arrived. Aragorn could feel the tension in the air between them already, and knew that he was only going to add more fuel to the fire by asking the help for which he sought.

"Forgive me if I have interrupted, but it is Eowyn that has brought me here to the stables. It would seem Gandalf has need of your assistance milady, and asked that I seek you out. I knew you would be here among the horses, it's familiar to you". He said as he gave her a soft smile. Eowyn blushed under his gaze and turned her attention back to the horse.

"What help could I be to a wizard?" She asked while her hands continued the slow circular movements over the horse's flank. Eomer released an irritated sigh as he looked at the two of them. He knew all to well that his sisters feelings towards the future king of Gondor. It ate at him that the ranger seemed to toy with her affections only to deny her the warmth of his embrace. He was very protective of his young sister, and at times had to play the role of both brother and father when it came to her well being. He cared for her, and yet to Eowyn he was controlling.

Aragorn was about to speak when the Lord of the Mark interrupted him, "Yes just what does the wizard want with my sister milord? Are there some magic's he is unable to call forth without the aid of a woman?" He joked. Eowyn froze upon hearing it and turned to warn him in her glare that he had said too much. "My dear brother feels that a woman's place is in the home and hearth. Tending the fires and attending the children and the old. He fails to see that in times such as these even women may lift a sword to help protect those they love..."

Aragorn nodded curtly as he listened to her. If this were any other time he would have engaged deeper in the conversation. But such talk of women's rights in armed combat was not the issue here. There were more pressing matters. He chose to ignore the off-handed comment and proceeded on with the business that brought him there. Knowing it sour the mood.

"Gandalf would seek your aid attending to the young girl that was brought here, she's awakened and I'm sure he feels..."

"Ah ! so it's about that girl again!" Cut in Eomer, " I'll not have my sister involved with that girls plight. I have spoken on this matter before and expressed my own reserve, do not bring my sister into this..."

Aragorn felt a flash of anger well within him at the young lord, though he did his best to keep it well in check. He understood that Emoer had his reasons for his harshness of strangers, and peoples unknown to him. But this deep-seated hatred of a girl he had never seen was unsettling. He vowed that he would talk with him of it later and perhaps really try to sort these misgivings out. Eomer would after all assume the throne of Rohan, and someone so hot heated and quick to judge worried him as an ally.

"My brother fails to realize that I have a voice and a mind of my own..." came the voice of Eowyn as she faced her brother, a look of hard steel in her soft blue eyes. Eomer met her gaze head on and there was a fight waging just beneath the surface. He knew how cunning his sister could be when pushed. And that was clearly reflected in her eyes.

"This girl is none of our affair Eowyn. She should never have been brought here, if the wizard seeks the aid of a woman I presume than he should look no further than a common chambermaid. Not the nobility of another's kingdom..." he stated.

"Be that as it may my brother I am not a child. And I have more than a mind of my own with which to think. If my help is needed I will be honored to assist. And assist I will!" She said as she turned on her heal and began to walk out of the stables.

Eomer felt himself boil over in anger at her rebelliousness. She had just thoroughly insulted him in front of a future king and made him appear as no more than a child who had been scolded. He refused to look at Aragorn as the tension in the air was still very high.

"The lady speaks her mind..." Aragorn whispered to himself as he gave a polite bow to Eomer and left the stable halls to catch up with Eowyn.

By the time Aragorn and Eowyn arrived outside the doors of the room Gandalf and Legolas were on there to greet them. "Ahh good, I see that you have found her. Lady Eowyn if it would not be to much trouble to ask of you, to watch over this girl in the coming days. She will have need of a friendly face before long. I know you possess the compassion to guide her..." he said.

Eowyn gave a gentle smile at the wizard's deep insight into her character. There really wasn't much she guessed that the wizard didn't know about everyone. He always seemed to know the right and proper things to say, and when of' course not to say them.

"I thank you for your faith in me milord. I will be happy to help assist in any way that I can. It will be nice to pass the days with the company of another". she replied and gave a quick bow to Legolas as she passed him before she entered the room.

Carefully she strode into the room taking in the sheer size of it all, it was room that could swallow up the golden hall of her homeland three times over. She had been surprised as well when she recovered from her injuries from the field of Pelennor and began to explore the castle grounds. It was very apparent that the city was grounded in much wealth and nothing ever seemed to ordinary in the white city. Attention to detail no matter how minute was applied to everything within, even it's people.

Slowly she moved towards the center of the room and noticed the large bed and the form of someone resting within it. Her brother had mentioned that the girl was an enemy, one of the Harad who had helped to attack the city. She was herself curious about the girl, and discover for herself if the girl posed any threat. But as she neared the bed and took one quick passing look she had concluded. The young girl was stretched out on the bed, a thick blanket covering her. A look of pain etched in her dark features, even in sleep. Her long dark hair was tossed wildly about her head. The remnants of were her thick lochs had been braided now tossed and frenzied. This girl had put up a fight, and lost the battle to exhaustion and sleep.

There was a small well decorated chair at her bedside and she moved toward it silently sitting down. Folding her hands in her lap she wanted to reach out to the girl and smooth away some hair from her face, but held back. She didn't want to awaken the poor girl, it was quite clear that she needed the rest.

For two hours Eowyn sat at her side and watched as the girl made movements and called out names in her sleep. She distinctly heard the girl call out for the pain to stop, for "him" to go away. Eowyn felt her heart ache for her, the agony that she most have endured among the battle. She could tell that the girl was no warrior, and no manner of being could convince her otherwise that she would pose a threat of any kind. She was just an ordinary young woman who found herself in matters that were out of her control. As she had once in the past. And she shut her eyes tightly at the memory. Not wanting to recall the days of her uncles house that had fallen into decay and abandon, and the wicked hearts of men who tried to assume power in his stead. Gone now were those days, and she tried to look forward to the future. A future without her beloved uncle, who'd been like a father.

Eowyn was jarred from her thoughts when she noticed the girl was beginning to wake up. Very softly eyes began to flutter open and she realized from the look of the high ceiling that she was back in the large white room, with the high ceiling and the banners of the white tree. Putting a hand to her head she closed her eyes and focused on ridding the pain that was throbbing deep in her lower temple.

It took only a moment for Maven to realize that she was not alone when she saw the figure of a pale woman with long sun kissed blonde hair and amber colored robes. At first she thought she was in a dream, and recalled her childhood friend Loren. The two were similar in appearance. All she could do was stare at her and try to summon the courage to speak.

"Loren...is that you?"

Eowyn was relived to see that she wasn't delirious as she had been informed earlier by Aragorn. Instead she was quite aware of things and asking after a friend. "No my child I am Eowyn. And I would be pleased to call you friend. What is your name?"

Maven heard the sound of her voice and knew it to be a stranger and not Loren at all. Her mind reeled back to the last time she had spoken with Loren, and it made her shut her eyes in pain and guilt. For there were harsh words spoken between them, petty fighting. And the very last time after the Orc attack...the sound of Loren screaming.

"My name," she replied almost mechanically as she tried to push away the sound from her mind back into its recesses. She swallowed first then taking a deep breath, "Priestess Maven Hermia of the Goddess Temple".

Eowyn smiled. She seemed shocked to hear her respond and the wealth of information that seemed to just flow from her was a good sign. This young girl would recover and in time her wounds both physical and mentally would heal. Revealing the true nature of one so young.

"Well Priestess Maven Hermia of the Goddess Temple, I am pleased to meet you. I am Eowyn White Lady of Rohan." replied Eowyn with a slight bow. Maven watched her in silence for a minute before she tried to sit up further. The ache in her side had returned but it seemed tolerable for her take as she gathered her strength and prepared to stand.

Eowyn instantly tried to dissuade her but within minutes Maven was on her feet on the other side of the bed. She swayed a minute before reaching for the post and steadied herself. Her long thick. hair clung to her like a blanket. Maven focused her attention on the nearby balcony and the last rays of the fading sunlight as it peered through. She wanted to be near the warmth of the sun just now, to feel the last bits of it's warmth caress her skin. Assuring her like a mothers embrace that all would be well. For it was clear to her now that she was alone.

Alone in a strange place among men, who either wanted to capture her, terrify her or help her. It was all so very confusing, and she was tired of it. She felt her spirit want to rid itself from the earthly world. For there seemed little reason to remain in it. The life once known shattered, her body broken and abused...

"I am no longer a priestess..." she muttered under her breath.

The sorrow in her voice reached Eowyn and she stood up from her chair and crossed the short distance between them. Only stopping within inches from her. She knew the girl was on the edge of collapse from the deep sorrow that echoed through her voice.

"Of course you are Lady Maven, as I will always be White Lady of Rohan. You must not allow tragedy to change the person that you are. And take over your spirit as I can see in your eyes just now. I too have known the same pain...fight back that emptiness milady and begin to heal..." advised Eowyn.

"A Priestess is to remain pure of heart, of the mind and soul...And bo" and she froze, and wrapped her arms tightly about her shaking her head at the memory of Gorn and his repeated violation of her. She knew in that minute that she would never be free from the fact or the painful sting of its memory.

Tears began to cloud her vision and she felt her knees grow weak and offer no support. Slowly she allowed herself to sink to the floor and she sat there with her knees pulled up to her chest crying for all the pain she had so endured over the past weeks, and this new place where she was sure only more tragedy would befall her. Eowyn could hold back no longer only recalling to well the empty pain of things lost, things taken...

She found herself at Maven's side and reached for her tenderly pulling her close while the girl sobbed. Maven tensed at the contact instantly but this woman who so resembled a friend forgotten, soothed her. And so she allowed this stranger to hold her like a mother with her crying babe and whisper words of comfort she prayed would ring true.

TBC


	7. chap 7

Don't own this...

Chapter 7

Song of the Virgin

There came a knock to the tall golden doors of the king's chambers. Maven had barely imagined that she had heard the sound, making the barest movement as it startled her. She had not been able to sleep since getting back into the large bed. Her mind it seemed would not allow her a moment's peace as the weight of her current situation began to unfold. The longer she was awake the more she saw her life slip away from her. Alone in this strange city among those who were the enemy...Confused her. And so she lay there faced away from the door, her brown eyes starring off into the darkness of the night.

Eowyn had nearly nodded off to sleep when she heard the knock, at first she thought it was part of some dream but the sound came again. She stood up slowly and gave a quick glance in Maven's direction. She could not see her face but had a very distinct feeling that she was awake. Turning she moved away from the bed and off in the direction of the door when she heard the small voice of Maven call out to her.

"Eowyn?" She called out with panic in her voice. She didn't know why she trusted this strange blonde woman; perhaps it was the close resemblance to her lost friend. But some how she did, and grew steadily fearful all at once the thought of being left alone even if only for a moment.

Eowyn sensed her hidden fears and assured her that she was only going as far as the door. "I am here, worry not. Whomever it is that has come here I can assure you is friend not foe. Please try to calm yourself..."

Maven barely nodded and took a deep breath trying to push away all feelings of panic. She had no desire to be seen by anyone right now. It made her ill to think of another living soul looking at her the way she knew she must look now. Her long curly black hair was in a mess behind her. She could sense shadows underneath her eyes, and she had not eaten well in weeks. She knew herself to be nothing but a withered excuse of what she had once been. In her heart she was content to stay in that bed forever, looking off into the distance over the balcony. Wishing for a life she knew would never return.

Eowyn crossed the large expanse of the room and carefully lifted the handle on the door guiding it open. To her surprise there stood Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. Each man with the exception of the elf appeared to have had very little sleep. She studied each of them quickly and saw a deep concern just underneath the surface. It amazed her that all four of them would take this time, the night before they left for battle to inquire about a young woman who was virtually a stranger to them all.

"My lords..." She began, "what can I do for you this evening?"

"We come to see the lass". Replied Gimli as he gave her a respectful bow. She smiled at him and returned the gesture. She pondered for a moment if Maven was well enough to receive any visitors. After Maven's breakdown she had gotten back into bed and simply lain there with the most forlorn expression on her face. She most certainly didn't like the looks of it. Though she was sure Maven would turn away from visitors she concluded that perhaps it was a good way to help her mend.

"How is she, has she spoken much?" Asked Arargorn. "Not much, I'm afraid. Only enough to assure me that she is aware of where she is and what has happened to her."

"That is a good start and a sign that she is recovering". Stated Gandalf. Though he still feared the worse deep down. He had heard stories of women who had been captured by Orc's and it was never pleasant and the aftermath that accompanied them often ended with the women taking their own lives. He dearly hoped this young girl's spirit was stronger than that.

"Well then do come in, though I beg you to be as gentle with your questions as possible. She is still very fragile right now", said Eowyn. Each man gave a silent nod and she bid him to pass.

Maven heard the footsteps of several people approaching and she took a deep breath and tried to pretend, as though she was asleep. Who were these people come to see her? She did recall the faces of the strangers from not long ago, a white haired man. A tall dark haired lord and an elf. Though she thought herself crazy, surely she had been mistaken. The confusion of it all must have caused her to see things, and it was not an elf she'd seen but rather a man with similar features.

The sound of their steady footsteps came to a halt and she prayed that they would not look at her, or at the very least look and leave. She heard the voice of Eowyn and calmed a bit but remained still.

"She is sleeping". Said Gimli as he leaned up on his toes to get a quick view of the sleeping girl. Gandalf watched the girl carefully as her chest arose steadily and rhythmically but he could sense that she was in fact not asleep but awake and trying to hide herself as best she knew how. But he decided to allow her to keep up her facade for as long as she saw fit.

"I thank you for looking after the girl Eowyn", said Aragorn.

"Please...I would gladly help all those afflicted in this war. I have seen my share of lives wasted, and families torn asunder, if I might be of help to at least one lost soul then I do so with pride. There is no need for thanks, milord". She replied. By this time Legolas who had been standing beside Gimli sensed the girl was awake though she pretended otherwise. He stepped closer out of curiosity towards the bed with practiced stealth in his movements as not to frighten or alarm. There was a wave of fear that was emanating from her, fear and shame. She didn't want them there. Eowyn noticed that the elf had moved closer to Maven's bedside and she began to silently caution him when Maven turned and sat up, her dark brown eyes falling instantly on the elf who had tried his best not to alarm her. Somehow she had sensed him, and it caused him to wonder. Elves moved with a different grace than humans, and only another elf could have so detected him.

He was captured by the look in her eyes, though he had sensed earlier that she was frightened now he saw a spark of fire from within her as their gazes locked. And for the first time he really looked at her and carefully filed away every detail. She had delicate features; her dark eyes were like black pools with slender lashes that were just as prominent. Her nose was small and slender and did not look out of place, and her lips were full and a natural shade of the softest red. And he had never seen such long dark curly hair. He was fascinated.

Maven didn't understand what possessed her sit up just then, all she knew was that someone was approaching her and that that person was a stranger. A sudden survival instinct jumped to the forefront of her mind and she decided to chase away her feelings of fear and her insecurities and face this would be attacker. She couldn't have known that she would be entranced. It took her only moments to recall him, his face. The hair and his ever intense blue eyes. There had been doubt in her mind before, but it was clear to her now. She had seen an elf, and here he was. The very same one.

"Please do not be alarmed, I mean you no ill". He spoke softly.

"What do you want of me?" She demanded back at him, her voice remaining calm while inside she wanted to cringe. There was a pause before he replied. Gandalf and the others watched in stunned silence as the two exchanged words. Each was moved to a sudden curiosity about what was unfolding before them.

"I do hope that is so, I can bare no more torture. I only wish to be left alone to exist only as my goddess sees fit. After all that I have seen I dare not dream of a life beyond another day. Please leave me to my ends...it's none of your concern". She said. Before Legolas could reply Aragorn stepped forward.

"Forgive my friend milady for having startled you. He only wishes as do well all to see you well. Please allow me to introduce myself and that of my companions. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. My tall friend there is Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," he began and the elf gave a polite nod in turn.

"To my left is Gimli son of Gloin," and he pointed in the direction of the Dwarf who gave a gruff smile and a nod, "and finally to my right is the wizard Gandalf. And of course the Lady Eowyn whom you know already. We are all here out of friendship and compassion. I should like to think that you might soon look upon each of us as a trusted friend. Tell me lady what is your name?"

Maven had now been scanning the room looking hard at each of their faces. Trying to still gauge the truth in their words and in their demeanor. Each of them displayed a look of compassion yes, but there was also the look of pity. She supposed she probably was rather pathetic right now. She looked a mess and most certainly felt a mess. And she concluded that even if she were to call these people 'friends' she knew that some part of them would always look at her like the victim. It gnawed at her inside. An uneasy feeling to constantly try to brush aside even if her life regained some normalcy.

Looking down at her hands she toyed with the blanket feeling unease slowly creep its way back. She bit at her lip and tried to find her voice. "Take your time". Said Aragorn as he saw her fidget. Eowyn marveled at how gentle he was.

"My name...," she began as though she had forgotten it, "Pre--...Maven Hermia."

Gandalf was sure she was about to say something else, he had known that she was a Priestess. Though he didn't fully understand why she would want to with hold such information. She was still keeping herself closed up inside that much was clear.

"It is a pleasure Lady Maven. If there is anything I may do for you that might ease your stay here then please. You have only to ask." Said Aragorn. Maven nodded quickly as her mind began to ponder all the information and the new faces that surrounded her. She turned then to Legolas studying the unique features of his face, his dark blue eyes and prominent features. Features that no man she had ever seen possess. As a child she had been captivated by stories of elves in books and now here stood such a creature. One who would call her 'friend'.

"Are you truly an Elf?" She asked shyly.

He smiled that she had addressed him and it pleased him a great deal, "Aye milady I am. Am I the first Elf you have ever seen?"

She nodded; "yes I have only ever read about your kind in books in the temp---, in my homeland. It is strange to come face to face with what I had surmised as pure myth. Forgive me, I mean no disrespect".

He gave a gentle laugh," There is none taken milady". Maven wanted to smile at his light hearted laughter, but felt herself still to emotionally drained to do so. And so she turned away from him, her eyes looking outside at the night sky. Though she could not see it she was sure that there was a full moon tonight. On nights of the full moon among those in the temple it was a night of prayer and meditation. To commune oneself with goddess and the energies of the earth. She didn't know how she would do such a thing here in this strange place. And the more she thought about it the more she truly realized how much her life had changed and would continue to do. The longer she remained in the city of the west. She wanted to return to her people, and the life once known. And she imaged it briefly, seeing the temple. Attending to the animals in the barn house. Playing games with children when their parents brought them in for blessings. Talks with her Temple mates. These thoughts passed through her mind, these memories. The idea of every experiencing them again made her heart ache.

Gandalf saw the myriad of feelings that passed over her young face and he decided it was time to understand what brought her to the battlefield that day. Taking a deep breath he leaned on his white staff and steadily began.

"Might I ask young Priestess what brought you to the battlefield that dreadful day?" He asked casually. Maven felt her breath catch in her throat and her pulse quicken. How had he known that she was a priestess? The men of the west knew nothing of her people at the very least, for this man to address her so casually as though it were perfectly normal. Just who was this white haired man they called Gandalf?

She jerked her head around quickly and just stared at him, her brown eyes now large out of both fear and shame. The word Priestess was stained now, tainted. For nineteen years she lived that life, called herself a priestess. Wore the robe, sang the chants, practiced the holy arts. Lifted her voice in joy to the heavens... but that was all so far a memory. Now there was a hole there where her life should have been, a tear. A stain that marred her spirit that can never be washed away. She would never call herself, or allow another to address her as a priestess again. It was a mockery.

"I am no longer a _Priestess_ milord. I beg you not to address me as such. That life is over now, a pain that will not heal..." she replied dryly. Gandalf nodded thoughtfully a moment, understanding the agony that was so present in her voice. He had meant no insult, merely to confirm his own conclusions.

"Forgive me if I have caused you further pain my child. This old man at times can miscalculate the feelings of others, but believe me when I say that I am sorry. Indeed...we only want to understand your pain. So that you might be helped through it. There is no need to go through it alone."

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes thinking of the truth in his words. There was a strange aura about him that caused her to sense his compassion. His deep understanding and genuine need to help. In that moment she was grateful, and oddly looked forward to calling him a friend. She had never had friends outside of the Temple it was forbidden.

The weight of everything was pushing down on her like a landslide and she wanted to lift that burden, to pull it away from her delicate shoulders and be rid of it. But she felt doubt bombard her as well.

"The wound is too fresh...I...I don't want to talk about it".

Gandalf gave a dejected sigh and exchanged a quick glance with Eowyn who was shaking her head in a manner of disproval. She was silently telling him that the meeting was over, and just as well he thought.

"I think that's enough for this evening milord," said Eowyn as she began to direct each man from the room. "Aye, yes I agree. There is much that must be done in the approaching day, yes much. Much indeed. I bid you a goodnight Maven, rest well" he said as he turned and began to leave. Aragorn and Gimli each bid her the same and followed the white wizard to the room's entrance. Eowyn was standing at the doorway escorting each man out. A dismal fear swelling within her own heart at the horror they would face when before the black gates of Mordor hours from now.

So lost in thought she hadn't realized that there was yet one more person still at Maven's bedside. It was Legolas. Eowyn stood perplexed, she was about to call out his name when Aragorn stopped her. Very gently he reached for her shoulder to gain her attention. She turned to question.

"Perhaps Lord Legolas did not hear me". She said quietly. Aragorn smiled at her, "Oh no I'm afraid he did. This is most interesting; I have never seen him so taken with a human girl before."

"Taken? What do you mean..." She asked as she turned to look back towards her newfound friend. From where she stood it appeared as though the two were engaged in a conversation.

He had been about to turn away when he heard the most peculiar thing, he heard her singing ever so slightly under her breath. It was a low hum really, but it was enough for his sensitive ears to make out. And once he heard the melody he found that he was enveloped by it. It was exotic to him, as exotic and beguiling as she was. The air in the room seemed to change he thought, the mood changed. No longer was there a feeling of loss coming from her, but of something far more uplifting in it's melody.

Maven hadn't noticed that she was being watched. She had become so lost in her own song, that the world melted away. It was a rather ordinary song she had learned as a child. In the confusion of recent events she had not once thought about singing. For it so reminded her of what she once was, and yet somehow she had subconsciously erupted into it as though it were as normal as taking a breath. It soothed her and she tried to relish in the warm feelings for as long as the song lasted. When she was finished she leaned back into the bed and sighed still feeling caught in the wake of the song.

"That was beautiful".

Maven spun around to see that Legolas was still standing only a few feet away. His gaze once again made her feel uncomfortable, for it always appeared as though he were looking right through her. Taking a deep breath she merely nodded and tried to shift her gaze else where.

"It was nothing...just a simple song..." she stated. He cocked a brow at this off handed modesty. He had never heard such a voice before, such deep emotion and passion in so simple a song.

"You are far to modest Lady Maven, believe me when I say that it was most pleasant. And once day soon I would like to hear many more of your songs, until then. I bid you a restful night Lady". He said as he gave her a swift bow and turned to his awaiting companions at the room's entrance. Maven watched him leave noticing how even with urgency in his steps, he moved with calm ease from one end of the room to another. He met up with his friends and soon after Eowyn shut the door.

He wanted to hear her sing again. Some part of her was pleased by his admitted. The last person to ask her to sing was the captain of her troupe. That was so long ago now, she thought. Perhaps in this new city, around these new friends she would begin to discover herself again. And in time would sing, as she had not long ago. She smiled slightly at the thought.

TBC...


	8. chap 8

Don't own this...

Chapter 8

Song of the Virgin

Three Weeks Later

Maven stood on the balcony overlooking the vast plains of the fields of the Palinor. The sun only just now slowly climbed from its slumber. Her mind clear as she stared off into the distance, glancing every now and then to her left and the fading black smoke still rising from the black lands. The war was over now, the battle won. Word had reached the city not more than a day later of the victory over the evil lord. All over Middle Earth the word had spread that peace would return. The dark forces of the world had now crept back into the dismal shadows whence they came light would now envelop the world. And the evils of the past would sleep again.

She drew satisfaction now that the war was over, deep in her heart. But no matter any of it she still felt herself all alone in the world. Inside she felt as though the world would swallow her whole with no regard to her pleas. Time had moved on, and her physical wounds had healed. But there was still the ache, the desperate ache of being alone. Of one stranded that time had left behind.

In the days since she could recall she had seen many strange folk, most friendly some not. She supposed that her goddess had not completely abandoned her, for she was under the care and guidance of a friend of sorts. A new one who so resembled an old one of past. Eowyn of the Rohan was ever at her side, always open to talk. Always willing to listen. In the beginning Maven had tried to shut her out, and withdraw back into herself. It seemed the only way to keep bad memories at bay. To simply ignore them, as though they never happened.

And so she began slowly in the early days to allow herself to get to know this young blonde haired woman from the Golden Halls of Rohan. Maven began to absently hum a song to herself as she watched the sun rise and saw a grouping of birds off in the far distance. It was peaceful in that instance and so being alone she began to sing silently to herself.

"I am glad to see you singing". Came a woman's voice from behind.

Maven turned swiftly around only to be confronted with Eowyn. Maven gave her a polite nod of acknowledgement before turning back to the rising sun and it's warmth. She closed her eyes and basked in it's light enjoying the feel of it on her skin.

Eowyn understood Maven's moods by now. She was well aware that it would take some time yet before the girl was ever 'normal'. But in the mean time she would do all that she could for her, for certainly she understood what it felt like to be all alone. As she had been in her uncle's halls with the world changing about her so rapidly. Maven had yet to fully open up to her as she would have liked, but each day that passed always seemed to reveal new information. Something more that would lead Maven back to a more peaceful existence.

The white lady of Rohan now stood beside her friend as she looked off into the distance as well. The view was different from this balcony. Not long after Aragorn and his companions left for Mordor Eowyn had decided it was the proper time for Maven to have a room of her own. During the chaos and confusion that lead her to be brought there it had been forgotten that she was being cared for in the Kings quarters.

And so she had found a beautiful room located in a wing of the castle that over looked the mountains towards the south as she was told that that was where she hailed from. Maven's room was more like an apartment than a room; it was no where near the size of the king's room. But just as grand and just as beautiful. It was filled with beautiful linens of lavender and gold. Large wooden closets decorated with scenes of the open seas carved into them. There was an enormous open fireplace on the west wall of the room, a plush white rub before it. Beside that there was a couch and some sitting chairs.

The bed was slightly smaller in scale from that of the King's bed. It had a high canopy with delicate white and gold linen draped from pole to pole. Indeed the room must have belonged to woman in the past. Eowyn noticed that despite everything Maven seemed quite taken with the room. Giving a slight smile when she was finally shown the room. That was more than a week ago.

"Will you not change your mind about today?" Eowyn asked. Today was the coronation of Lord Aragorn. He was to be crowned King of Gondor. Plans had been in preparations for days now. The entire city was celebrating; many delegates from all over middle earth were coming to see it. History was being made today, and she so wanted her friend to bare witness to a man she knew would bring lasting peace.

Maven dropped her gaze from the distance, slightly downcast. She knew in her hear she owed Lord Aragorn some allegiance. He and his companions had after all saved her life; it wasn't that she was being ungrateful in the least. But she was a stranger here; she could never make herself forget that. No matter what he had said, or anyone. She would feel all eyes fall on her eventually and she would never be able to forget it.

"Eowyn how...How can I? I'm a stranger here or have you forgotten. I know that Lord Aragorn is a good man, a fair man. From what I have been told...he and his friends saved my life. I owe him much, but..."

"But you still feel as though you don't belong?" Eowyn finished for her. Maven sighed and gave a nod. "How can I appear before him on this day of happiness when I myself do not feel happy. I would be little more than a burden, please...I can not".

Eowyn thought on the matter for a moment. She didn't want to pressure Maven if in her heart she truly was not ready for such a bold step. But she so yearned for her friend to feel hope, to see the light at the end of this dismal tunnel she so found herself stuck in.

"Happiness will return to you I promise," said Eowyn and suddenly a face flashed across her mind, " but you must first be willing to allow it. If you truly feel that today is not the proper time then I understand. And so will Lord Aragorn."

For a few moments more Eowyn remained where she was before she decided it was time to prepare herself for the coming day. There was much to prepare for, she had to talk with her brother. He had become slightly somber after the victory at the black gates, and she suspected she knew why.

"Well if you will excuse me Maven I have much to prepare for. My brother and I are the only delegates to come from our homeland. We are all that remain of our house. My brother too will soon be a King. I feel he will need a strong shoulder to confide in this day". She said.

Maven heard her every word and nodded solemnly. She had never had siblings. Only temple mates whom she called 'sisters'. But it was only a loose term, and she was related to none of them. In that moment she did want to go, and try to forget about the past. But she remained still, her tiny hand holding on to the railing of the balcony. It felt as though it was the only thing that was holding her up at that moment and she leaned closer to it support.

Eowyn turned to leave but had one last thing to impart before she left, "If you do decide to change your mind. Then please you know where to find me.". And then she turned to leave.

"Eowyn..." Said Maven as she turned watching her only friend leave. Eowyn turned gently towards her and smiled slightly. "Yes?" She asked.

"Thank you". She said quietly.

Eowyn smiled brightly and then turned and left the balcony.

"Where have you been I have been looking for you?" Blurted Eomer. He was standing in the center of the great hall. There were people all around them, many stopped and stared at them. They seemed slightly out of place in the vast halls of the white city. With their golden skin and dark blonde hair. A feature that was not very common among those who inhabited the city. At times Eowyn felt like an object on constant display. Eyes watching her, whispers of who she was and what she had done on the field of battle. They were calling her the "warrior queen". Though she was far from such a thing. She had no desire to become so named. Though the title of warrior was pleasing she thought with a smile.

Her brother had been slightly on edge lately, his moods changing like the tides. She knew he was relieved that the war was over. That much was clear, but now there was a side of him that she had not seen before. He paced the floor nervously until she reached him, searching his eyes for some stillness.

"Calm yourself brother I am here now". She said plainly.

He regarded her for a moment. And then his blue eyes grew wide when he recalled where he his sister hand been spending her time recently. With that girl, that Harad woman. It still galled him that she had been brought to the city. Though he had already voiced his own opinion on the matter, he knew well enough to keep such thoughts to himself. The girl was under the protection of Gondor and it's new King. He had let the matter go, and tried to forget about it entirely.

"You were talking with that girl again. My own sister consorting with the enemy. I thought I told you to stay away from her".

Eowyn raised a curious brow, "You did and I _chose _not to listen. You are my brother Eomer and I have much respect and love for you. But you will not rule over me, and declare whom I may and may not call friend. Have you forgotten that the women of Rohan are just as strong willed as you men?" She retorted.

He wanted to laugh genuinely, she was right. It was not in the nature of any Rohan woman to be so docile. He only wanted to protect her that was all. He had heard strange rumors about the girl from day one. That she was a practitioner of the dark arts, or ancient magic's. And that she would try to upset the house of Gondor. For all this he had never even seen the girl.

"And she has a name Eomer, it's Maven. She's a human being just like you or I and she doesn't deserve your mistrust. She has suffered much... Far too much". And she allowed her thoughts to trail off for a moment before shutting her eyes to events long past.

Eomer sensed something strange in her voice just hen, and he thought he had imagined it. But he brushed the feeling aside and decided to change the subject. "The coronation is this evening, where shall I expect to find you. We are the only representatives of Rohan here. I would like it if you stood beside me".

"I shall be here in the hall. I will meet you by that pillar," and she pointed off to the left towards a large pillar that was at the edge of a large entrance. It was being decorated with dark blue and silver ribbons. In fact the entire throne room was being redecorated and adorned with the accents. It was beautiful. There was a blue velvet veil over the Kings chair at the top of a step stair way. Only to be unveiled and given over to the rightful King of the city tonight.

"Very well then, I shall see you later. Don't be late..." he warned as he walked away. She smiled and assured him that she wouldn't be and watched him move away.

From the shadows in the great hall far from the view of most passers by stood Luther. He was trying his best not to be spotted by anyone, as he was seen less than favorably in the days since his lord the steward had fallen. His long time friend had lost his life in the heat of chaos brought on when the war landed on the cities very door step. With Denathor gone there was little left for him to do, as the only remnant of what once was.

An so he kept to shadows day after day, keeping to himself. Listening in on conversations where he could, trying to understand the wind of change that was sweeping the land and soon the city. Now that there was to be a new king he supposed he should try to find a place in this new lords halls. However he had already gotten off to a bad start with this young King. Twice now he had encountered him, always under ill circumstances. And it was all due to that woman.

With each day that had come and gone since her arrival here, he had felt his world crumbling even more into nothingness. She was the reason he would find no room in this city with it's new king. The very idea of her tempted and repulsed him at the same time. The sphere had never fully revealed how beautiful she was, how her dark brown eyes could so enchant and capture the heart of a man. Especially one who had very rarely known a woman's touch.

He would be careful however for the girl was now under the protection of several others, in particular a wizard. Not long ago he had been on the other end of the wizards sword, and would have been run through most certainly if the fates had not interjected. From then on he made himself a shadow and a near memory to those who recognized his face. To remain hidden and forgotten was the only way to survive now. But soon, very soon he would have his chance.

And he gave a wicked smile at the black thoughts circling around in his head.

Maven was seated on a plush velvet chair reading a book Eowyn had brought her from the cities library. It was a book on the realm of Gondor, not quite a history but a collection of events and of kings long past. Eowyn had been uncertain at first when she handed her the book, not knowing if she would be able to read it. For it was in another language, that of the west. To her shock Maven advised her that she had learned to read many different books in various languages. It made her feel like something of her old self. To be alone on a quiet day with a new book at her side. She tried to lose herself in the book, and was amazed to discover while reading that Gondor was a city of scholars and of statesmen. A place of intellect, and not of war. Though the city was well protected and boasted a rather large army, Gondor was a peaceful realm. She had heard much to the contrary back home and was now questioning her own prejudices.

Slowly her concentration began to waver and she found herself starring around the room. She no longer saw herself as a prisoner of the city, nor did she feel entirely welcomed. It was a mixture of feelings that seemed to run through her min. A different emotion ever five minutes. At any time she could ask to go home, and several times she caught herself wanting to leave. It was shame that kept her from going through with it. The shame of failing her people, of trying to run from battle. The shame of being separated from her temple mates on the field of battle. Of failing to do what it was that brought her into the war all together...and then there was him. The Orc Gorn...who had...

She shook her head vigorously at the hateful memory. Squeezing her eyes shut she began to focus on her new reality. Taking deep breaths she placed her left hand over her wildly beating heart and said a prayer. The stain of that memory, that fact would never allow her to return to her people. How could she, walk back into that world and still be called a priestess when in her heart she knew otherwise. She deeply prayed for a resolution some day.

Placing the book down she stood and walked towards the large canopy bed, on it lay a beautiful lavender gown. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen, or imagined. She had never worn such things before, and didn't know it was even possible to wear such clothing. Clothing at the temple was always ceremonial, and simple. There was no need for such lavishness. Gondor was different as she dually noted from the decorations of the last room she was in to this room.

She picked up the dress and allowed its length to fall to the floor. There were tiny crystal like jewels encrusted in the neckline that swooped down low. There was a threading of silver woven also through the neckline and along the bell like sleeves. The dress was soft, made of a strange material she hadn't before seen. Turning to her left she noticed a large full length mirror and decided that it wouldn't hurt to try on the dress. Surmising that no one would see her, she changed into it.

A tiny gasp escaped her when she turned and saw the image of herself in the tall mirror. She hardly recognized herself, and placed a hand over her mouth in shock. The dress fit her perfectly hugging every curve. She turned around and around marveling at how comfortable the dress was despite what she had convinced herself to prior. It was a perfect fit and highly relaxing. For another five minutes she looked over herself in the mirror wanting to stamp the image in her mind for she would never wear such a dress again. When suddenly a knock came to her door. She froze.

A moment later the door opened and in stepped Eowyn. Maven wanted to hide herself but there was no where in the great big room to do so, no matter what she would be seen. So she stumbled about for a minute before meeting Eowyn's bewildered gaze.

"Maven, you look beautiful! I was right in my choice of dress size, it is a perfect fit. You look like a star that has fallen from heaven this very night!" stated Eowyn who was now looking her over with pure amazement. She had doubted that Maven would try the dress on. She was glad to have been wrong.

"It's nothing Eowyn, I...I'm...not going to wear it much longer. I just wanted to see...what it would be like..." said Maven as thought she had been caught doing something utterly wrong.

"Oh there is no need for excuses Maven. I had hoped you would try on the dress, that is why I left it here. In case you changed your mind. And besides that the dress is yours to have. Please as my gift..."

Maven shook her head no, "Oh I couldn't...possibly take this as a gift. It is truly beautiful, a work of art really. But I...I am not accustomed to wearing such things of this magnitude. I am rather simple at heart...a priestess...I can not take it. Please, I am sorry".

Eowyn was disappointed and frowned a bit. But she understood that it was not in Maven's nature given her past to wear anything more than a temple robe like the one she was found wearing. Though it had seen better days.

"Very well, I understand. But please wear it as long as you like, as you wish. However that brings me to reason for coming here. I came to as ask you once more, if you will attend the festivities tonight. Aragorn will be crowned king within the hour. I know he would be pleased to see you, as will the others".

"The others?" whispered Maven.

"Yes. Gandalf, Gimli and Legolas...they have all asked about you. I know that you have not seen them since they left for Mordor weeks ago. Won't you let them see you?" asked Eowyn. Maven had heard very little after that. She recalled them, Gimli the dwarf, Gandalf the white haired wizard and Legolas...

"I'm not ready..." was her quick reply. Eowyn frowned again, this time determined to break Maven free from this room. Free from withdrawing into herself. She was sure that the world would pass her by if she did take action and reacquaint her with it soon. "Maven you can not hold yourself up in this room any longer. It's _not_ healthy...I have given you your space. For I do understand some of your pain, I do. But you have to go on Maven. And believe me if you go on this way no matter where you go your life will be a tomb. And the cycle will repeat, now I am asking you...begging you for your own sake to come with me tonight and celebrate the end of this war. Of pain and suffering...for your own good and nothing else. Come with me".

There was a wealth of truth in Eowyn's words and Maven heard her loud and clear. It was true all of it. If she remained in this room or any other she would never pick up the pieces of her broken life and start anew. She would consign her fate to one of constants instead of the variety of change. She gave a nod and declared that she would accompany her to the coronation. Eowyn smiled brightly at her and took her hand swiftly and exited the room.

TBC...


	9. chap 9

Don't own this...

Chapter 9

Song of the Virgin

The halls were cluttered with people by the time Eowyn finally convinced Maven to attend the coronation. Large groups of strange people, many of them from other parts of Middle Earth littered the hall ways, apparently to engaged in their own conversations and not at all at the historic crowning of a nations new king. Holding on to her friend's hand tightly she weaved through the crowds of people and found the end of the large white hall that was the south wing.

Other people who were in a greater hurry than she was pushed beside her, some polite and others downright rude. Several times she felt as though Maven might try to slip away from her. But a gentle squeeze on her hand and a kind word brought her back every time. They stood before the stairway now and Eowyn warned Maven to be mindful of the steps.

"The architects of this city were not kind, and many times I have tripped. Do be careful on your steps..." she warned. Maven felt her heart beat madly within her chest. Already she had seen the faces of men and women as she moved passed them. There was a peculiar look on their faces, and some even leaned in to whisper to one another. Their eyes studied her for as long as she was within their sights. Eyes that revealed words unspoken, and it made her regret giving in to Eowyn.

She really wasn't ready to deal with this many people especially on a day like today. Part of her hoped that in the confusion of it all she would just blend in and that no one would notice her. But so easily had she forgotten her features, and what set her apart. Gondor was a city those of fair skin, as she was a woman from the Harad. Whose dark features set her apart quickly.

Taking careful steps she followed Eowyn down the steps until they came to a clear landing and moved swiftly down a series of more halls. Maven tried to take note of her surroundings for her own good. But the white halls all seemed to blend into each other and the palace was a natural maze. But slowly Eowyn eased down to a brisk walk before stopping in an enormous room that was jammed with people. The two made their way towards a series of pillars towards the figure of a man with dark golden hair. He was dressed like a warrior of some prestige. He hadn't seen them approaching.

Eowyn took this minute to prepare Maven before introducing him. She deeply hoped Eomer would be on his best behavior given his heated and well-voiced opinion on the matter of Maven's existence.

"Maven that man standing there is my older brother Eomer. I must warn you now that he can be a bit of a...Well he can be difficult to understand at times. He is a good man at heart, and I ask that you ignore any comments that he might say with less than the utmost politeness".

"What do mean?" Questioned Maven. Eowyn was about to answer when the ringing of bells began to chime. People began to brush passed them with more force now; they were all headed out to the courtyard of the white tree. It was soon to begin. Taking a breath Eowyn hoped her brother would not shame her or insult her new friend. Turning away from Maven she approached him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around slowly and locked eyes with his younger sister. There was annoyance written all over his rugged face. His dark blue eyes colliding with that of his sisters softer ones and he launched into a lecture.

"Where have you been, I thought I asked you not to be late..." He began when he noticed the figure of a woman just behind her. He trailed off as he turned his head to the side to get a better look at this woman when he felt his voice catch in his throat. Standing beside his sister was a young dark skinned woman with ebony colored eyes and black curly hair that trailed behind her half braided halting at her ankles. Of their own will his eyes took note of her exotic beauty before he found himself scanning the length of her body.

Maven squirmed under his gaze not at all comfortable with the way he was gazing at her. She squirmed under his gaze and tried to hide behind Eowyn s best she could, not wanting to look at him. Eowyn briefly noted the change in her brother's demeanor, though she was relieved that he had not made a complete fool of himself she wasn't at ease with his apparent staring either. She put more distance between them allowing Maven the comfort she was seeking by hiding.

"It is very rude to stare brother." She blurted out.

He barely heard her before finding his voice again. It was obvious that this girl was the one in question. The one whom Aragorn and his men had brought here. He didn't know what to expect when he finally did see her, but he hadn't expected her to be beautiful. He half expected some wild savage.

"This is the girl?" He asked bluntly.

"Her name is Maven". Eowyn corrected. Eomer gave a sarcastic nod and smirk at his sister still trying to get a look at the person in question. But Maven was hiding now securely behind Eowyn watching people pass. All eyes in the area had fallen on her and it was making her very nervous. "Yes yes, Maven. We shall talk more of this... Later. Come now we must take our places". He said as he marched away. Eowyn released a sigh, not certain of what just happened. She had expected her brother to over act completely and yet he had not. He seemed shocked.

She and Maven followed the thick maze of people out the grand doors of the palace hall towards a vast courtyard. Maven noticed that there was a tall white tree towards its center that was in full bloom. Though the season hadn't called for it, the tree was a sea of life as tiny flowers erupted from every inch of its branches. But she moves along with Eowyn into the awaiting crowd. Eowyn had lost sight of her brother and gave up looking for him realizing that it would take far longer to search for him than to just find a good spot. She noticed the young Captain Faramir to her left and made her way towards him.

Maven was still trying to hide, but there was no escaping the eyes from the crowd when the two approached. Faramir gave Eowyn a polite bow and a gentle smile before stepping aside to make room for her and her friend. He hadn't changed his demeanor one bit upon seeing Maven and greeted her as warmly as he had Eowyn. To this Eowyn was grateful and began a lighthearted conversation with him. Meanwhile Maven was now free from Eowyn and standing alone just beside her. There were so many people she felt she would get dizzy trying to look at them all.

There were men from seemingly all walks of life crowded in the small courtyard. Many women dressed in fine satins and velvets with the brightest colored gowns she had ever seen. It was in that moment she realized that perhaps her dress was ordinary by most standards. That these other women were truly the ones wearing the wealth of nations. She took a deep breath and relaxed.

She began to scan the crowd again just trying to understand it all when she saw a familiar face across the way. And she didn't have time to look away before he noticed her as well. It was Legolas. She had not seen very much of him, only enough to know his face. But he was not dressed at all like he had when he spoken with her weeks ago. He wore a silver circlet about his head and was dressed in pale robes that were intricate and elegant. His blonde hair was pulled back into a sophisticated series of twists that seemed oddly out of place on him. His posture was firm and strong, yet relaxed and at ease.

He smiled warmly at her and inclined his head ever so gently in her direction, and she quickly returned it albeit very clumsily and nervous. She wanted to smile but found that her nerves would not allow it. And so she turned away from him and pretended to be interested in something else. Moments later she noticed the great doors of the throne hall shut followed by Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf. A hush fell over the crowd and soon the coronation was underway.

The celebration that followed was something unlike Maven had ever seen. The entire city rejoiced in the wake of their new king. All around her she could hear the cheers of men and women shouting praise in Aragorns name. Children ran past her with streamers in their hands laughing and causing their parents to rush after them cheerfully, laughter in every step. The crowds had begun to disperse slowly moving towards the throne room and the large hall that awaited further celebration. Maven tried to stay out of the way of people as they passed by her. She had felt lost for a moment until Eowyn called out to her pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Maven over here!" She called out.

Maven turned around spotting her friend a few feet from her, relieved that she was not alone in this mass of strangers. She so desperately wanted to hide away some where and return to the peace and solace of her room. Panic and regret were taking hold of her quickly and she rushed toward Eowyn feeling her heart pound madly beneath her chest.

But Eowyn was not alone when Maven reached her, at her side stood Captain Faramir a man she been briefly introduced to moments before the coronation. She noticed that his demeanor was calm and more at peace then most men she had since encountered in the city.

"There you are, I deeply apologize for the separation. The gathering of such a large number of people has caused quite some turmoil for such a small area..." began Eowyn. She noticed the fallen expression on Mavens face and knew that at any moment she might fall into a panic. Maven simply nodded at her to afraid of what her voice would sound like. Knowing that it would reveal all to well the swelling panic that was rushing through her veins telling her to get away. That the longer she stayed the more it was only a matter of time before she was made the object of observation and ridicule. Again she questioned why she had been so easily talked into this venture. Surely no good could come of it.

Eowyn took Mavens silence with growing caution as she bid her to follow them inside towards the main hall. Very briefly Eowyn reintroduced Faramir to Maven who again paid her a kind glance and a word before returning his attention back to the Rohan maiden. Inside the hall long tables had been set placed along the edges of the rooms near the great white pillars like stone sentinels. Elaborate decorations covered them and the smell of food filled the air. There was to be a banquet and feast in honor of the king. There was a small open area of the hall were five musicians were preparing for a long evening of play. Maven moved along with Eowyn and Faramir towards the farthest table located just before the stone steps that led to the king's throne.

She felt a strange feeling of unease creep into her heart at the very idea of being seated so near the object of everyone's attention. But she took a deep breath and tried with all her might to pretend as though she were somewhere else. It was the only way she was able to deal with the noise and the rush of the crowd. Never in her life had she seen such a great multitude of people it frightened her.

Eowyn took her seat and asked Maven to sit beside her, which she did with as much grace as possible. Faramir was seated just across from the both of them ever calm and respectful. He called for a servant to bring them each a glass of wine to which Maven felt instantly unsure of. She had never had wine before, again one of the many things that was previously forbidden. She had wanted to speak up and advise him that she could not partake of wine, but nor did she wish to draw attention to herself. And so she sat with her hands in her lap twisting nervously at the material of her dress. Hoping that the celebrations would not last the whole night. More and more people began to seat themselves at the table and soon it was filled to capacity. A moment later the servant girl returned bearing a tray filled with wine glasses and began to pass them out in turn to everyone seated at the table. Maven graciously accepted her glass and sat it down unsteadily before her only glancing at it.

Eowyn observed her; as best she could without making it appear too obvious. Worry filled her and she hoped that she was doing the right thing. A buzz of conversation began all about the table when the last of its assigned guests appeared. It was Eomer. He located his sister and made his way towards her and after finding his spot at the table he sat down. Taking his seat directly across from Maven he sat down with a huff before taking the wineglass provided and downing the liquid quickly. Eowyn again hoped her brother would not act to rashly this night.

"We seem to have lost you in the crowd Eomer, I am sorry." Offered Eowyn as she began to feel the guilt. He seemed to ignore her for a moment before replying his eyes focused directly on Maven. He was still amazed at her appearance. How had such a woman who appeared to be no more than a child become involved in war? It called him to question, and he tore his eyes away from her turning to face his sister.

"We are again reunited there is nothing more need said. For now we should enjoy this night and the celebration to come. It has been a long time in the making for us all. Let us all drink to those...," and he seemed lost in his thoughts a moment," who could not attend. But are here in spirit always".

Eowyn closed her eyes and thought of her uncle and nodded in understanding of her brother's open display of pained emotion. Maven noticed that Faramir too seemed effected by the statement and swiftly reached for his glass of wine taking a deep drink. It occurred to her that each of each of them seated there must have lost someone dear to them in this war. And she was among them. She thought of her fallen comrades and wanted suddenly to reach for her glass of wine, but caught herself.

Eomer noticed Mavens unease and the fact that she had yet to drink from her wine glass since he had joined the table. How rude, he thought. She should drink her wine and show some respect to those who fought for freedom. He began to stare at her harshly practically burning her with his seasoned gaze. "Maven is it?" He asked. Maven was taken off guard by his tone and began to squirm more in seat. She nodded towards him averting her gaze whenever possible.

"I see that you do not share in our celebrations, you do not drink your wine. You seem not to honor our ways even as you sit among us. Be mindful of where you are girl and pay some respect". The tone in his voice felt among all those in earshot. It was cold and icy, lacking very little room for compassion. Maven felt her stomach drop and lowered her eyes unsure how she should react to him. But she found that she had no need to when the last person she expected stood to speak in her defense. It was the young Captain of Gondor, Faramir. He gently pushed away from the table and looked down to his right at the former lord of the mark. Though it did not appear that he arose in anger, for he was very calm in his demeanor, and yet there was something else in his stance.

"My lord Eomer perhaps there is more to this alleged insult than you may realize". He stated with profound a wisdom. It was then that Eowyn who was now shocked at her brother's behavior and called order back to the situation. Her small voice ringing clear, "My brother speaks his mind often not thinking of the consequences, please. Let us enjoy the night and the celebrations. I am certain Maven means no insult by not joining in on drinking brother, you must be mindful of those whose ways differ from our own..."

Eomer felt his himself twist inside at his sisters words. How dare she remind him of the fact that this girl was an outsider. When it was clear to all that she was and did not belong in the city. He admitted to himself already that she was most peculiar, not at all what he had expected to see. Indeed he found her highly attractive even beautiful. But all that aside she was once the enemy, still the enemy in his eyes. It would take him time to adjust to the idea of her among them. He returned to his drink and spoke no more on the subject ignoring anything more from his sister or Faramir.

The following meal that was then served was eaten in total silence among the four of them and Maven wanted nothing more at that moment then to not only leave the table but the city itself.

It was dark now as the sun began to set and night again enveloped the world. The musicians has had launched into another beautiful tune that seemed to beckon dancers to the center floor. Many men and women arose and found a partner taking to the floor in a flood of colors and dancing merrily. Lord Faramir nervously approached Eowyn asking her to dance but she declined, after giving a worried look at Maven. She didn't want to leave her alone. It made Maven feel much worse, after the argument earlier this evening that she had been the center of. And so she told her friend to go ahead and that she would be all right. Reluctantly Eowyn accepted Faramir's hand and they moved off towards the dance floor leaving her alone at the table with countless strangers and Eomer.

He took of the situation and soon excused himself from that table before he was approached by some silly girl wanting to dance. He shot Maven a strange look wondering what it would be like to see her dance when he forced the idea from his mind. With a huff he walked away from the table leaving her there alone. Maven looked around the hall glancing over all the strange faces, questions about her life in this strange city bombarding her. She'd never felt so alone and she reasoned she needed some fresh air. Pushing away from the table she gathered the fabric of her dress and moved along the back wall toward the open courtyard of the white tree. Needing suddenly to see the stars and feel the breeze of the night air. Many watched her pass by them and the whispers abound as she skirted by them. Carefully they scanned her, some with curiosity and others with cold steel in their gaze. Her vision began to blur as she brushed by them until she was at the entrance of the great hall. She took off at a run to the nearest ledge and held onto to it tightly releasing light sobs. Her small shoulders moving up and down as she leaned against the wall not even thinking of how high up she was. The land below seemed to go on forever and stretched far away from her. As she felt so small in this New World. But her peace was fleeting when she heard the soft steps of someone approaching from behind. She wiped at her eyes and carefully turned around to find Legolas regarding her.

"Are you all right milady?" He asked as he moved towards her carefully. He had seen her dash outside with urgency. She was upset, it was clear. He hoped that somehow he could reach her enough to understand what had transpired.

Maven wasn't prepared to see him or know how to react. His eyes twinkled in the emerging light from the stars and it made her forget herself for a moment and stare at him. The way the light reflected was most strange, almost unearthly. He turned his head slightly and the effect was gone. "I just needed some air..." She replied blankly before turning away from him. He smiled and walked over and stood beside her. To which she quickly moved another few inches away from him. Close contact with men of any kind put her nerves on end, especially alone.

"I understand, the hall is filled with many strange people this night. I have to admit myself that even I am a bit reluctant to be among them. My people do not have such grand affairs that would warrant such a display". He said smoothly. His voice was gentle to the ear and she liked to hear him talk.

"I can see that you are upset Lady Maven and as a friend I would be more than willing to listen if you wish to talk".

Maven shook her head slightly and didn't reply.

"You are not alone here there are those who genuinely want to help you. I ask that you do not shut us out without first giving us a chance. You must not let the words and peculiar looks of men within this city so effect you. In that respect we are alike." He said. She turned to look at him with a curious expression.

"What do mean?" She asked shyly.

"I too am an outsider here for I am elf kind. My people have not set foot in the white city for quite some time, perhaps over a hundred years. I too know what it is like to feel like the outsider. But my faith in my friends and our task pulled me from that place of despair. Soon you will feel this way as well."

"I do not see that happening, anytime soon. I should not be here. The people of this city stare at me and judge me with not more than a glace. I am the object of strife and confusion even among those who claim to be friends. It will take a hundred years before I am excepted here...But I have no where else to go. For I can not return to my people after...after all that has happened..."

"And what did happen to you Maven. Why were you on the field that day?" He barely had time to catch himself before he'd said it. And he cursed himself for it probably sounded very cold to her delicate heart. Almost demanding.

Maven tensed and her dark brown eyes darted all over as she fought the sick feeling that wanted to erupt from inside. She squeezed the ledge until she felt her knuckles would give way. Her head began to swim in a wave of nausea before she even considered giving him an answer. Taking many deep breaths she tried to pull herself together. It became clear to Legolas that he had upset her by asking something that was still to fresh and far to personal to reveal and he began to apologize immediately.

"Forgive my boldness lady, I did not mean to offend you..." he began as he saw her shaking from head to toe. She was frightened, and he prayed that she was not fearful of him. She seemed to ignore him for a moment and he thought perhaps that he should leave though he waged the battle over and over in his head. That he should stay because she needed a friend now. To leave her would be wrong she was so fragile and he wanted to look after her, protect her.

"Why are you here Lord Legolas," she asked now feeling suddenly very tired," surely there are more important matters at hand then to worry over a troubled girl. A broken woman from some distant land".

He smiled slightly and decided to be honest with her, "In all truth milady I came to ask permission for a dance". He said. Maven felt her heart catch in her throat. Surely she hadn't heard him correctly. He wanted to ask her for a dance, with him...together? She was speechless. And she didn't understand why it so stunned her. Perhaps because she still was in awe of seeing an elf, or having him call her friend. Either way it was still strange to her that this beautiful creature would even bother. When so much of the city folk had already made her feel less than wanted, here he was welcoming her.

"You are no trouble lady, and yes I did come to ask for a dance. Would you care to?" He asked and he extended his right hand towards her. She was now facing him and trying to calm her jittery nerves. She stared at his hand and froze, scared of what contact with him would do to her. Physical contact scared her more than anything did now; contact with a man was equal to borderline hysteria. She shook her head vigorously at him a pulled away slightly towards the ledge lowering her head in shame.

"I can not, I am sorry..." she said.

He could not help but feel disappointed for he so longed to dance with her. He had already admitted to himself that he found her beautiful, of that there was no question. And upon seeing her tonight dressed as beautifully as she was he could not hold back the urge to ask for a dance. Some part of him forgot that she was still very fragile and needed more time to adjust to life in Gondor. He gave a deep bow and expressed his understanding but he did not leave. Instead he stood beside her and began to admire the stars.

"Do not hate me milord" she hadn't realized that she had spoken aloud. To her surprise his soft voice filled the air as he gave her a polite reply, "Never milady. And please we are friends. It would please me very much if you called me by my name."

Maven gasped slightly before nodding. "As you wish milord...sorry. Legolas". He smiled brightly into the dark and began to talk of the stars as Maven stood beside him and listened well into the night.

TBC...


	10. chap 10

Don't own this...

Chapter 10

Song of the Virgin

King Thranduil sipped at his wine slowly savoring the exotic taste of Gondorian wine, as he had never before experienced it before this night. His ageless blue eyes scanned the coronation hall taking in a blend of colors and the various subtleties that made up the world of men. It had been an age since he had last been in the white city of the west, and it was only brief enough for him to recall it without much room for detail. Taking another sip from his glass he sat at the head of a long wooden table among other elves from his realm. A proud father to have his son return from the war a hero and a survivor when so many of their people had been slain. He was thankful.

Turning to his right he noticed that his sons chair was empty causing him to raise a curious brow in wonder. But he was soon disrupted from his thoughts when all Elves at the table began to bow and look to the direction just beside him. Turning he saw Aragorn, now crowned King standing beside him.

Thranduil gently put down his wineglass and stood to greet him with the respect of one king to another. They clasped shoulders and embraced slightly before parting and Aragorn took the moment to seat himself. Many elves at the table seemed bewildered to see the human king sitting among them so casually. They had heard tales of how uncommon he was for a mortal man.

"There is no man that I have ever known that deserves the peace you now have Lord Aragorn," said Thranduil as he reached for his wineglass twirling the stem between his fingers. Aragorn smiled before replying. He had been pleased to see Thranduil the father of his best friend at his coronation. King Thranduil very rarely left the realm of Mirkwood forest, and so it warmed him to be reunited with a long forgotten face.

"Please, I must thank you for being here. It means much to me to see the faces of those who I would call friend and brother." Replied Aragorn. Thranduil gave a nod before asking about the whereabouts of his son.

"Have you by chance seen my son this evening? He seems to have disappeared after the parade of dancers took to the floor. I dare say my son is not much for these kinds of spectacles"

Aragorn gave a polite laugh in response knowing the elder elf was correct. His good friend wasn't much for large crowds and drinking though he could hold his own in that respect. As a matter of fact he had seen Legolas slip out of the hall headed in the direction of the courtyard.

"I did catch sight of him earlier he seemed to need some fresh air and headed out to the terrace. I have tried to encourage him myself to be more extroverted, but the longer I have known him I understand that this is just who he is." Said Aragorn as he looked over his shoulder around the hall wondering if the subject of discussion might suddenly appear.

Thranduil shook his head; "my son is young even by eleven standards and still trying to find his place in the world as we all do. This journey he has just taken part of was but the first step in the direction of his true future, as king of our people. Once in that station there will be no room for such things".

Aragorn nodded in slight understanding only knowing to well that Legolas did not ever wish to be king or rule over subjects. As he had expressed to him in confidence several times. It was partly the reason he had undertaken the journey to Imladris, to get away from the strict stringent that was a royal household. His friend had told him many times how he'd wish to start a life elsewhere away from his father and build his own lands and accomplish his own great deeds. To live among others equally.

"If you will forgive my saying, milord, your son is wise beyond his years. I believe he will be a good king in time..." began Aragorn. Thranduil began to frown slightly not sure he liked the hidden message in Aragorns tone and unspoken words.

"I know where you would lead this my lord Aragorn and I respect you and all that you have to say on my son's behalf as his most trusted friend. But our world is changing. Among my people that means little but during the course of this war change has been ever present on the minds of many Elves. Our populations are shrinking; our borders under attack from Orc's, Spiders and the very remnants of the dark lord. There is no time to pull away from duty and what must be done". Stated the Elven king. He loved his son and his people and their lands and knew that one day soon he would be leaving it all behind and in his sons trusted care.

"I understand milord, forgive me if I have offended you..." said Aragorn.

Thranduil shook his head and offered a sincere smile, a rare sight on the elf king before he stood from the table and excused himself. "I must find my son, there is much I wish to discuss with him this night that well not wait till the morn. You said you saw him head outside milord?" he asked.

"Aye, if it is not to much to ask I would very much like to accompany you as far as the great hall doors. I myself have need of fresh air".

"Very well then my lord," replied Thranduil and the two Kings gracefully made their way through the packed hall of dancers and courtesans. As they passed by the large open hall floor Aragorn looked to his throne and gave a warm smile at his beloved Arwen who in turn nodded her head and blew him a kiss with the tip of her index finger. He fought the urge to go up to her and blushed at her affectionate display of love. But for now he felt he was needed elsewhere. He had a strange feeling about Thranduil's sudden need to pass on the throne to his son. Though it really was none of his business still it caused him to wonder and worry that perhaps something more was hidden in the elf kings agenda. He hoped his feelings of worry were for naught and that there was nothing to be troubled by. But still there was an air of change all around him.

It took only minutes to reach the edge of the hall and the large open doors that led outside to the courtyard and the white tree that was now fully in bloom. The scent of the blooms filled the air and smelled of sweet jasmine and honeysuckle. The night sky was dark and beautiful with every star in sight shining brightly for all to see. Thranduil closed his eyes and took in the scent of the blossoms on the air and recalled the days of his youth, long before he was king. When he could spend his days as he wished as his only son was trying to do now. Very quickly he opened his large blue eyes and recalled the events of the past year and how quickly the world changes.

His son could not afford to live in such reckless abandon there was work to be done, a people to protect and a forest to reclaim from the clutches of evils. It was then that he spotted his son standing at the end of the vast courtyard near the edge. And he was not alone, there was someone else beside him. And a closer glance he could make out the figure of a young woman. Curious he turned to Aragorn and before he could question Aragorn began to speak.

"You're wondering milord whom he is with who is that girl..."

Thranduil simply turned to look at him and then back to his son in wonder. Could it be that his son has finally found some young elf maiden with whom to share eternity. It was a thought that pleased him greatly, the idea of his son married and the prospect of grandchildren. Perhaps the future was not as bleak as he had surmised over the past year of war.

"Yes I am indeed is she an Elf maiden? I dare say that perhaps this is the reason for my son's strange behavior at the table this evening, he did seem...preoccupied by somthing tonight. Constantly looking about the hall as if eager to see particular face. Perhaps this young woman is the cause of it." said Thranduil.

"Perhaps, milord perhaps. But alas she is not an elf maiden; she is a young woman whom your son saved from certain death not mere days before our last stand on the black gates. It was by some miracle that he saw her and pulled her from the grip of death, her name is Maven and she has been under the care of my house since she was brought here. She still recovers". Said Aragorn as he looked down the length of the courtyard barely making out the figures of both individuals.

Thranduil was slightly disturbed by this new information, he was proud of his son on one hand for saving the girl as he would have done himself. But why was he out here alone with her on a night when so many young elf women sat alone at the table admiring him. He could not deny that in his heart he had always felt that unions between men and elves was doomed. That both sides would hold prejudices and harbor misguided feelings. The very man standing beside him was one such man betrothed to an elf maiden, and he knew in his heart that it was wrong to call him friend and be so bigoted. But Aragorn was a man grown and now a king of his own people. His son's future was still being written and he could not imagine the talk and the hushed whispers at the court toward his son. With a sigh he thought perhaps he was reading too much into the situation and graciously asked leave of Aragorn before slowly ascending the stairs headed towards the two figures in the distance.

Aragorn watched him leave and remarked to himself that he had been correct in his theory about his elf friend. He had expected to find him out here under the stars and with Maven. Though he couldn't yet explain it, he had known that his friend was drawn to the Harad maiden. A fact that he failed to mention to Thranduil. Leaning beside the large stone archway he waited and watched as the elf king proceeded forward.

Meanwhile...

"And that constellation there is named for a young elf princess by the by the name of

Luthian. She fell in love with a mortal man and pledged herself to him against the wishes of her father. Berian was his name and a shooting star is named for him and passes once a year through her group of stars..." Said Legolas as he pointed with much enthusiasm towards the eastern sky and the star cluster. As a child he had been fascinated with the heavens and every star under it. He hadn't realized how much he had missed talking about such things until this night. Turning he looked toward Maven who seemed lost in thought as she looked in the direction that he was pointing at.

"Your silence worries me Maven, are you all right? I apologize if I have been rambling on tonight; the stars have always been an object of fascination for me. A love of mine that I have only recently rediscovered, forgive me". He said. Maven stopped still, her heart beating madly in her chest. She gave him a brief veiled glance before answering him.

"No milord there is nothing to apologize for...You see... I too love the stars. I have always liked the way they make me feel at night. And I have read much about them...including the tale of the lovers, Berian and Luthian. Their story is..." and she stopped herself when she realized just how open she was being and how she had not intended on doing so.

"Yes, go on Maven..." he urged when she stopped suddenly. There was a huskiness in his soft voice and it caused her to shudder but not in fear...It was something else. She felt her breath catch in her throat and her mouth go dry as she struggled to understand what her mind and body were trying to tell her. It was a foreign feeling and it made her more unsure of herself and of Legolas all at once. With a polite curtsy she backed away from him and turned to leave when she noticed a tall blonde male elf standing not far away. She studied him in the waning light of the stars, and there was something peculiar about his features as she looked again at Legolas. He was far taller than Legolas, but his features were very nearly the same. His blue eyes were slightly larger in comparison and his hair a darker honey gold. And within an instant she had concluded that this man was Legolas's father it was uncanny. She bowed to him noticing the silver circlet about his head. And for the first time it occurred to her that Legolas was of noble birth.

"My son..." said Thranduil as he regarded the young woman. Aragorn had failed to mention her exotic features, she was most interesting. Her dark skin and long black hair was a sight he had not expected to find. He studied her for a moment causing Maven to feel as though he were trying to read her mind and discover all of her secrets and that the longer he stared the sooner he would. Legolas turned to greet his father inwardly ashamed that he had not heard his approach and knowing his father would make mention of it. He exchanged a caring glance at Maven trying to assure her with his eyes that she had nothing to fear. But already he could see her shake and her nerves slip.

"Good evening father". He said and placed a hand over his heart, as was custom among his people. Thranduil returned the gesture and instantly turned to Maven and wasted no time with his questions. "You are the young girl my son saved?" He asked. It was a question really but felt more like a bold interrogation. Maven wanted to speak but couldn't, the elf lord caused her to feel panicked, it was clear in his stare and every movement that he was not pleased with her. She felt so twisted inside, would no one except her for whom she was? Was this what it would be like forever...Constantly on the other side of stares and ridicule? Without meaning to she slipped into that place of hopelessness and a tear began to trail its way done her face.

"Might I introduce you Maven to my father. King Thranduil Greenleaf, of Mirkwood. Father this is Maven Hermia..." Said Legolas as he did his best to ease Maven with the sound of his smooth voice. It hadn't worked and soon after she bowed politely towards the elf King before excusing herself and taking off at a controlled run away from the courtyard. Thranduil turned and watched her leave shaking his head slightly at her apparent rudeness.

"She is not one for manners is she, a very peculiar girl indeed my son. Is she the reason you have abandoned the hospitality of our host, your friend?" He asked with accusation in his tone. Legolas knew his father well, he had already suspected to some degree that he had known about Maven. But it didn't matter really if he did, what was the wrong with befriending her?

"You sound as though you are accusing me father and of what? I needed some air and so I came outside to enjoy it. Young Maven was here and I talked with her. She has need of friends and I will offer her mine if she will have it".

"She is mortal is she not?" Asked Thranduil. Legolas turned curiously at his father and the hidden meaning behind his words. Instantly he understood what his father was getting at and it more that bothered him it made him angry. "What has that to do with it, she would not be the first mortal that I have befriended. And certainly not the last father I can assure you. Does it matter to you so much that she is mortal or the fact that she is a mortal woman?" He asked with controlled rebellion in his tone. Thranduil didn't like the way the conversation was headed. He didn't want to fight tonight and there were other more important things to discuss than a mortal woman.

"Enough of this, this mortal girl is not the reason I have come here tonight. I came to discuss your future my son and that of our people.".

"What of it father," replied Legolas," our people are now safe from the dark lord. Our borders still need to be protected and they will. This can wait until our journey home father if you will excuse me...". And he made to leave when his father caught the edge of his tunic. There was blue fire in his gaze as he looked at his son, his only son. He longed to see him take to his position as a prince and perform his duties. One of those duties and perhaps the most important one was to marry.

"Time grows short for our people, and soon you must heed the call of duty my son and take my place. But you can not do so without a companion...A queen at your side. It is time my son; I would arrange a marriage for you".

"And I say to you father that as I have always said, that I will choose a bride of my own in time. And it will not be for duty alone but for love father."

"You think you can live so carefree my son forever?" Questioned Thranduil as he turned his fury on his only child.

"No," replied Legolas," I do not. I am aware that change has come to our people, that times of old are gone forever. Changing with the wind never to return. And yet, I will not be forced into a loveless marriage for the sake of our people."

"I see, so it would appear that you have already chosen a mate? I dare say that it is not this mortal girl?" he questioned.

"And if it is father what then?" snapped Legolas.

Thranduil seemed stunned for a moment not quite sure of the tone in his sons voice, this was not like him. Sure he had been a free spirit as a child and as he grew into a man even more so. But this wild abandon and disregard for duty he would not tolerate. This mortal girl had come into his sons life and captured his spirit there was no doubt of this now. He cared for her or he would not have rushed to defend her as he was doing now.

"My son this can not be. Do you hear me it simply can not be….she is mortal you are not. She will die you will not, save by the blade of a sword or the pain of a broken heart. And I will _not _see my son fall into such a trap….a dark fate. Whatever it is that you feel for her you must abandon and do it quickly. Lest it drag you down my son".

"She is a friend father, and yes I do care for her as a friend should. To have suffered as I have seen her suffer I offer her whatever I can to help her through her troubles and her pains. You have always taught me to help those who are in need and who suffer, and that is what I intend to do. Good night father". and he pulled away from his father and left the terrace. Thranduil watched him leave with controlled rage boiling within him, this was not looking well. His only son was pulling away from him into the arms of some strange mortal woman.

And the more the he thought of this foreign woman the more he understood what it was that he had to do. Put an end to whatever connection there was between them and quickly lest the seed of love plant itself and there would be no going back. The King of Mirkwood came to a careful decision while he stood there underneath the stars. He prayed he was doing the right thing.

TBC….


	11. Chapter 11

Don't own this...

Chapter 11

Song of the Virgin

For days after the coronation Maven remained in her room choosing the peace it offered as opposed to the unwelcoming world that lay just over the thresh hold of her door. The mood outside seemed to reflect her inner feelings, for it was cloudy with small bursts of light of the sun through a wayward cloud. Her dark brown eyes starred off into the distance as she looked out the open balcony. Too many emotions bottled up within her. She still could scarcely understand why the people, or rather the new king and his friends took pity on her when her own people would never have taken a prisoner alive.

But here she was, alive and very well taken care of. She was feed the finest foods, many of which she had never even heard of. Offered the very best in richly decorated clothing and had a personal attendant. Not to mention free reign to move about the city, it was all too much. For deep inside she felt bruised, thoughts of her long lost friends….her people, the attack….Gorn…

A tear threatened to take shape at the edge of her eyes and she smoothly batted it away. The weight of it all was slowly wearing at her try as she might to make peace with it, ease it like one would a tight muscle in the shoulder. A book lay in her hand and she had since lost her interest in it. Allowing it to fall from her fingers to land roughly on the floor. She was sitting in bed, her legs hanging over the side facing the open balcony. She rather liked the room on the whole, it was quiet and in the mornings beheld a beautiful sunset. At night the stars would shine and were quite clean and clear.

At the very thought of stars she recalled a certain elf she had only recently come to know, and his fascination with the stars mirrored her own. Of all those she had met in the white city, aside from Eowyn, Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf. There was something very… she struggled with the right words. The way he looked at her, were as though he were gazing at the most fragile creature in all the world. There was never the faintest trace that his eyes or face could ever carry one inch of sadness. And through just his gentle eyes he seemed to express it without having uttered a word. His deep blue eyes were always soft and full of some held back emotion and there was always the look she least liked, sympathy.

She laughed momentarily, she supposed that she was rather pathetic. Always sitting in her room away from the world. But what else she thought, should be expected of me here. I'm not quite a prisoner, not welcome and far from royalty.

"I'm just…..here." she spoke aloud to herself, her small voice bouncing off the large expanse of the room causing her to jump slightly in alarm.

Just then there was a knock at her door. Though the sound was very slight Maven knew instantly to whom it belonged and she slowly gathered herself up from the bed and made her way to the middle of the room, gathering her long blue and white gown in her hands. Yet another gift from Lady Eowyn, it fit her well and was very modest in design. So reminding her of her priestess robes she accepted the gift with a polite smile and gentle 'thank you'. Eowyn had been looking out for her much like an older sister while she remained here. In spite of herself Maven could not help but feel warmed by the attention, to have someone care for her as she though she were truly welcome, lifted her bruised spirits enough that she managed a small smile.

"Come in Eowyn…" she called out to the door. A second later the large door creaked open and the beautiful white lady of Rohan emerged from the other side. She was as elegant as ever with her long blonde wavy hair tresses all about her shoulders. She wore a dark brown dress that bore small delicate designs of horses in full charge, a single band of the thinnest gold atop her head. Reminding her that she as indeed surrounded by high royals and people of noble birth. Again she wondered why they would even bother….

Eowyn walked in the room shutting the door behind her a gentle smile on her young face. Her blue eyes took her in and she smiled warmly, "How feel you today?" she asked as she smoothed out the lines in her dress.

Maven tossed her head askance and replied, "fine milady." Though her face told otherwise. She was far from feeling like talking even to a good friend like Eowyn. She simply desired right now to stand on the balcony and bask in the warmth of the waning sunlight.

"Surely you can not mean to stay inside this room all day as you have been Maven. There is a world out there that you must take part in again. Friends to make, adventures to embark on. Come now," she began moving towards the door hoping Maven would follow," let us go for a walk. I'm sure it would do you some good…."

Maven rose to protest," but….I really don't feel much….."

"Come now Maven none of that. You have been staying in this room far too long it's not healthy. A walk out in the open would do you some good, or maybe….I have a great idea. Come on…"

By this point there was no more protest from Maven she had learned that the young maiden of Rohan had a way with words and once she had set her mind to something there was no turning back. With a nod of defeat Maven gathered the edges of her long dress and proceeded to follow her friend out of the room. Taking a look over her shoulder just before she left the room entirely, she took note of the weather outside. It was going to rain.

Maven had no idea where she was being led by Eowyn and she really didn't care , as long as Eowyn seemed to know where they were going and was sated that she had managed to get her out of her room. The long white marble corridors seemed devoid of people today. And what few people they managed to pass paid them no real attention, just kept about their daily business little interested. Several guards along the way gave a polite nod as they passed and Maven managed to find one smiling at her with a heated glare in his dark green eyes. For some reason it caused a chill to run through her, like he would devour her in just that one glance. She found herself speeding up in her stride to walk directly beside Eowyn.

They had been walking for what seemed like an hour when they ascended a long staircase that led outside to an open courtyard. In the center of it was beautiful yet ancient looking water fountain and there were several men there, guards by the looks of them each with his own horse that was casually taking a drink from the fountain. As the two women emerged onto the yard the sound of horses and neighs filled the air. Maven felt her breath catch, this was Eowyns plan? To spend time with these loud wild beasts?

Instantly she shied away and took a careful step back, "Eowyn…?" she cried as she felt a panic well within her. Eowyn stopped and turned with the look of pure joy on her face. Horses were her peoples most treasured gems, children were taught to ride as soon as they could walk. No family in the Rohan was not without a horse, and certainly no house was without a long history of the finest mares and stallions under their lords reign. Eowyn's gentle face fell when she saw the obvious fear awash over Maven. She couldn't help but smile gently, not sure how anyone could be so fearful of horses.

"What's the matter Maven, they are only horses…"

"I know this….but I can not help it. I am not accustomed to these animals….they frighten me". Maven admitted as she watched one of the guards try to calm a black horse that was tossing his mighty head up and away from his master. There was proof right there that the creatures were to be feared. Eowyn caught sight of the girls gaze and understood what thoughts she might have had as she watched the stallion fight for control from his master. Of course Eowyn had known better, some of the mares were ready and in heat which drove the stallions crazy wanting to mate. Not all of the horses were going through this however, her horse was tucked away safely towards the back stalls on the far corners or the stables. Well away from the clamor of wild stallions wishing to sow there oats.

"Horses are not animals to be feared as much as shown a little respect. You'll see, come with me and I shall introduce you to some of the best horses in the entire stable house. In fact one could call them hero's". said Eowyn as she turned to lead the way. Maven gave one last look at the black stallion who was now nearly overpowering his two human care takers, when a third man approached and began his own luck with calming the animal. Maven ran along to catch up with Eowyn as she entered a large pale arch way towards the eastern end of the large stable house. Maven was a gasp in awe at the grand splendor that was the stables. The care and detail that was given to the ornate decorations along the various archways, the marble troughs of water for the animals to drink from. Fine cloth as well could be found, beautiful writing was present above the stalls of some horses, and the air was slightly filled with a fragrance that kept the smell of the animals at bay. Maven watched as Eowyn turned another corner on her left and she followed while still taking in the grand detail of everything.

The city was rich indeed, its leaders sparing no expense on even the simplest things. And for the animals that help make the city move more efficiently they too were given the most grand if not royal treatment. She hoped to understand this all, one day when she was old and could reflect upon it with more of life's experience. As for now she stared wide eyed at the entire scene.

Eowyn had come to a stop in the long corridor, to the left and right of them were several stalls that stretched clear down the corridor about twelve stalls deep. Maven took note that some of the stalls were indeed empty. Above the doorways of several stalls there was the name of the animal that had dwelt there, and oddly enough flowers that lay on the hearth before it. She knelled down while passing one stall, curious and picked one up. It was quite fresh and clean, as though it was replaced several times over. Eowyn walked to stand beside her. She looked up at the name above the stall door and read the name aloud.

"Mist Hawk…." she spoke softly.

Maven turned to look at the young maiden and then up at the name. "Was that the name of this animal…?" asked Maven after a long pause. Eowyn nodded, a solemn look on her pale face. "Yes it was….from the sound of it this was a mare. One of the many who did not return from her last run…."

A wave of sadness washed over Maven as she understood what Eowyn had mentioned before about hero's. Twirling the white flower in her fingers she though of those men and women in a lands after the war who would not be returning to their homes. It was somewhat touching to see that even animals could be shown that very same respect as their human counterparts in death.

"Come, there are a few horses here I would like you to meet". said Eowyn as she put on a smile and again led the way towards the middle of the stable house. Maven could not help but marvel at how utterly still the air was in this end of the stables, there was a silence there almost as though the animals knew some of their kin would not be turning. The first stall they stopped at did not bare the name of its occupant, instead the writing seemed to have been etched away angrily and a small wooden plaque had been placed on it instead. She struggled to make out the name.

"Fire…foot". whispered Maven.

Eowyn smiled brightly as and a warm expression crossed her face as well as a laughter in her voice. She reached inside the stall and made a slight clicking noise with her teeth and soon a large gray horse appeared tossing his head and snickering. He moved towards Eowyn with total ease and instantly began nudging his ears towards her soft white hands. Without hesitation Eowyn laughed and obliged the animal and began to scratch at the desired spot Firefoot was looking for. Maven could not help but wonder.

"This fine animal belongs to my brother, Eomer whom you have met. Firefoot has always been a rather quiet animal, as a foal he always ran as far away from danger as he could. Unlike his brothers and sisters….but Eomer took the time and loving care to transform this shy flower into a battle ready steed. And at heart through all that Firefoot has seen his heart still remains gentle and shy…."

Maven simply stood and listened as she watched the play between human and animal. Like two old friends never really apart sharing a moment. They moved on then jut two stalls over and inside there stood a beautiful brown horse whose brown coat seemed to shimmer in the light of the sunlight. His long thick brownish black mane hanging gently over his right eye, one eye gazing in the direction his visitors. Maven watched as Eowyn took care with this animal. Her approach was guarded and respectful.

"This is Brego….he was my late cousins horse. Horses are like people Maven, and able to understand the change in hands and masters. Those whom they have come to know. Brego is no different, when my cousin died Brego became to wild to approach or ride. I fear Theodred's death has deeply effected him….has has allowed but one man to ride him since my cousins passing…"

"And who is that?" Maven found herself wondering, she hadn't realized she had said it aloud. She was slowly getting over her initial fears of these animals, after watching Eowyn speak of them as though they were children.

"Lord Aragorn". she replied.

"Oh…" sighed Maven.

"It is fitting that he be here among his fellow kin, others from his herd from Rohan. I fear he might go mad if not for Firefoot here to soothe him. Make him feel more at home".

There was little else Eowyn said after that until they were well enough away from the stall and stopped at a stall just off to the right. Above the door to this stall was etched the name Snowmane. Again Eowyn explained the unique beauty of the animal and its lineage. Snowmane was like his name implied, as white as the snow that crested the mountain tops. He was proud in his demeanor when approached and took a minute or two to respond to Eowyn only allowing her to touch him for mere moments before dismissing her presence all together. Maven concluded that she didn't very much like that horse. Guilt touched her heart a moment later when Eowyn explained whom the horse had belonged to, none other than her uncle now fallen king of Rohan. Eowyn seemed about to cry when the loud neighing of another horse pulled her from her thoughts. Curiosity pulled at Maven first and she gathered up her skirts and moved towards the stall that belonged to the loud whining beast. Inside she saw a small whit horse, larger than a pony but still rather small. He was gray in some places but clearly white in the sunlight. His mane was purer than the freshest snow and appeared to glow without much effort.

The horses ears perched forward towards her the animal tapped his foot against the stone flooring, all the while bowing his head up and down. It caused Maven to smile a bit at his apparent happiness. That was the only way to describe the apparent emotion emanating from the horse.

"And this is Hasufel, another horse from my lands. His master was lost in battle…but he managed to fall under the care of another master. A very good man".

"Oh?", whispered Maven as the horse approached her. She held out her hand for some reason instantly at ease with the horse, like she had met him somewhere before. "And who is that?" she asked now stroking the horse as she watched Eowyn and her interactions. But there was a silence as she heard Eowyn gasp and then the very faint foot steps of someone approach she turned to face strong blue eyes piercing right back at her. A warm smile on his immortal face, "The stallion and I are friends. He belongs to me now".

TBC….

Sorry for the loooong wait. More to come……


	12. Chapter 12

Don't own this...

Chapter 12

Song of the Virgin

A Ride

The cool soft gaze of Legolas fell upon Maven and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the very sight of him. For there was always a warmth there behind his gaze, that matched no other in comparison. The way he stared at her, with that look of unquestionable understanding. It made her feel dizzy, and unsure of her next words. Eowyn took the silence that passed during this time to clear her throat and give a polite bow to the elf lord.

"It is good to see you milord. How fair you today…" she began.

He smiled when Eowyn spoke and broke his eyes away from Maven, which caused her to deeply breath a sigh of relief from his warm yet questioning gaze back to the stallion. "I fair well milady . It is always good to see you in good spirits, and most pleasing indeed to see Lady Maven out in the fresh air".

Eowyn smiled and voiced her agreement, but Maven again felt like she was under close scrutiny and wished for nothing more than to be well away from the both of them now. Life outside her room was always in motion, ever moving onward while she felt constantly trapped in the past. A prison within her own mind.

"Yes I well agree milord, I thought perhaps it would be good for Maven to see the fine horses of Rohan as well as those of this great city. We owe as much honor and respect to them as any man alive." said the Rohan maiden. Legolas nodded in agreement and turned away from Eowyn to stand directly beside Maven who was now trying to fade away, her hand outstretched petting the white stallion who seemed to appreciate her gentle touch.

"He likes you Maven". his voice barely a light whisper. Maven jumped slightly in spite of herself but her hand remained calmly upon the stallion. Who let out a loud snicker, like he found her nerves amusing.

"Y-yes….I rather think so." she replied hastily.

"It is very good to see you, I have wondered about you since the night of the coronation. I hope that all has been going well for you, that you are adjusting to your new life here in Minas Tirith".

Maven was to stunned by his words to really say much more so she simply nodded and continued to pay all her attention to the white horse. He worried about her? Why, she asked herself. She was no more than a ward here. She'd so quickly forgotten that he had called her friend. And expressed that they address each other on a first name basis. It was still hard for her to understand why he wasted his time on her account. He was after all a royal, a prince. Though in all honesty he never once made her feel like anything less than himself.

"Would you care to ride him?" he asked after another long pause had passed between them. She shook her head no before she could catch herself. Sure the stallion appeared sweet and gentle, but to ride him? Or any other horse in this stable was not in her agenda today by any means. A wave of fear swept over her and she tore her hand away from the soft muzzle of the animal and backed away from the stall door. Eowyn quickly moved to comfort her by placing her hands upon her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

"It's alright Maven, no one here will force you to do anything you don't want. I'm sure Lord Legolas will understand if you don't want to ride now. It's alright…" she soothed while gently massaging the young girls shoulders.

Legoals felt a pang of guilt wash over him as he watched her move away from the stall. With such terror awash in her brown eyes. He wanted so badly to reach out to her and soothe away her fears, to tell her that all would be well. That she simply had to believe in his words that she wound mend from the horrors of her past. But he stood there frozen, battling with his desire to help her.

For the hundredth time he cursed every Orc under the Valar's blue sky. Whatever it was those beasts had done to her had so deeply wounded her that she was edging everyday closer to loosing herself. And it made him sick, for he knew that at one time in her life she had to have been happy. Had lived a life without the shadow of fear.

He knew that he had to try.

"Forgive me Maven I did not mean to cause you fright. I would have you ride no other horse in this stable, but Hasufel for he is as gentle as a mother with a newborn child. Forgive me…." he said and then gave a gentle bow in her direction before he turned to enter Hasufel's stable. Once he was well out of sight, Maven released a deep sigh and turned to look at Eowyn. A feeling of guilt taking hold of her now, had she offended him by acting as she had now. And why was she feeling guilt at all? She was confused.

Eowyn stood spellbound by the entire scene. A look of wonder in her sky blue eyes. "Perhaps it is I who should express their apologies, I had so hoped that I could get you to ride with me. To feel the wind in your hair, out in the open running free. Is something I would very much like to share with you. Please…"

By this time Maven could no more hear an apology from anyone. For she understood that it was her who was being ridiculous. She was afraid of horses, but only slightly so. A feeling of shame took hold, and she was tired of being treated like the finest piece of delicate jewelry. Neither Eowyn or Legolas meant her harm, they were friends. Both had already expressed a concern for her that she never though she would experience again. She turned to face Eowyn. "You need not apologize Eowyn. I am still…getting…accustomed to everything here. You and your kindness….and the kindness of others. It is I who am to blame…"

At this Eowyn shook her head disagreeing instantly, "No Maven. Whatever fears you have of those around you are most warranted. I understand….believe me. I do, you take as long as you need to find yourself again. But do understand as I have said before, that you aren't alone. You have friends, you are not alone".

Maven smiled at her warm words as she was so deeply touched and promptly reached out and to pat Eowyns hand in a show of affection. Eowyn smiled in return hoping that she had finally reached her and could look forward to seeing her somber friend smile and pleasure out of life again. Perhaps this trip to the stables was just what she needed. Before Eowyn could say another word Maven carefully brushed passed her to the stallion Hasufel's stall and stood there curiously for a moment. Her big brown eyes wavered slightly and she turned in Eowyn's direction almost as though she were asking permission.

Eowyn nodded her head and made a scooting gesture with her hands, a warm smile of understanding crossed her face. For she was quite pleased with what she suspected was happening. Though she didn't really know how it happened, or guessed it was to soon to tell, but there was something at work between the Elf and the Harad Priestess.

Maven managed a weak smile before she entered the stall and was met with Legolas's back facing her. He was faced away from her, a brush in his hand, and he was whispering gentle things to the horse, which seemed to respond to him with slight clicks and whimpers. The two were carrying on a conversation she was sure, and she felt rude for she didn't want to interrupt. And she made to turn away and shoot down her once steady nerves when the gentle voice of Legolas spoke.

"Please come in, Hasufel and I were just discussing you". he said with a smile, glad that she could not see it. Maven blinked hard and did a very quick double take at the news. "Oh….you were. I did not know that Elves could so easily talk to horses…." she said honestly trying to ignore the weird feeling that he was talking about her at all when she wasn't around.

"Hmmm yes. There are a great many animal's that Elves talk to. Horses are our favorite, we'll….mine anyway." he said while still brushing the horse, still whispering things back and forth to the steed. The horse in turn tossed his head high and ground his foot once on the stone flooring, causing Maven to jump in alarm. And before she knew it she questioned what it was exactly he had been discussing with his horse.

"Milord talks to his horse, what could you two be talking about?"

At this Legolas performed one last circular movement on Hasufel's hind and turned in a graceful manner in her direction. The drifting sunlight caught just so in his blue eyes and he looked almost ethereal to her, she caught her breath again at the way he looked at her. Only this time she couldn't tear her eyes away and so she stood firm while he simply looked at her deeply.

"Hasufel says that he knows you to be a good soul, a soul he would very much like to carry upon his proud back. And wishes not, but for your safety….as do I".

It took Maven a minute to process his words and she turned away a deep blush coming to her cheeks as she turned over her hands in a fidget. Legolas smiled at her innocence somewhat pleased that he could get this kind of warmed reaction from her. She was most intriguing to him, a fact that only grew by the day. He wanted to know more about her, what her people were like. How they lived before the black hands of Sauron took hold and corrupted the hearts of their warriors. Perhaps a ride out in the open was the key to knowing more of her and spend time with one of the most enchanting women had had yet to come across in a millennia.

"And so it would please me Maven, if you trusted me and Hasfel for a ride out in the open country. The sunlight upon your face would suit you, and I do wish to hear of your homeland."

"My homeland…." she breathed, for the first time in a number of days had she really thought to deeply on it herself. "If that is what you wish…"

"It is", he said with a slight wink, "so it is agreed! You will ride then?" he asked a look of pure joy on his perfect features. Maven could no more turn him down when she saw the look of anticipated happiness awash him at the prospect of a ride. Legolas she could tell was very gentle with those he seemed to care about. And for some reason he had taken to care about her. Though it was still very strange to her altogether, she agreed to ride.

The rest of the day seemed to melt away as Eowyn, Legolas and Maven went for a ride. Though she had been fearful at first Maven quickly became accustomed to the feel of the horse beneath her, and the ease with which one rode a horse. She had decided to ride only due to Eowyn's gentle sisterly talks, and Legolas's encouraging words of promised safety. And she smiled to herself, she did feel safe. She had to admit it to herself that she was gaining albeit very tenderly, a feeling of protection. Of being safe.

And for an instance she imagined that the events of her past had never happened, that she was never a Priestess, not involved in a use less war, not held and attacked by Orc's….instead. She had just been a woman and nothing more. A woman with a new life ahead of her, with new friends and possible adventures to go on. She held on tightly to the reigns of her horse, she was atop Hasufel who, just as Legolas as had claimed was as gentle a horse as could ever be. So lost in thought that she hadn't heard the soft voice of Legolas as he came to a steady ride beside her. Eowyn smiled again at the magic unfolding before her, and made sure to pull her stead back slightly.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked kindly still worried that she might return to her old fears about horses. "No, Milord….I enjoy riding. It is…still very new to me. My people are unfamiliar with horses you see".

"Please, Maven….there is no court between us. No need for such formality, you may call me by my name openly. But if it causes you discomfort then please. Address me as you feel at ease with". he said.

She thought on it briefly, recalling that he was of a royal house. And to address a member of a royal house, no matter what land or kingdom they hailed from still seemed out of place. But for the tone of his voice and his friendly demeanor she would have refused, sighing to herself she consented.

"Please forgive me…" she said shyly.

He laughed gently at her in response. It caused her to feel like she had to explain herself and so she did, "but you are a prince". her voice was shaky when she spoke, a fact he noticed. Yes he was indeed a prince, he thought. But only in namesake. Inside he was so far removed from that title as anyone could be, the lure of the court was not as appealing to him. It seemed a prison, a place to spend his eternity tied to. And out of what, that his father was King. When there was so much of the Mirkwood forest to explore, and the world to see?

For his home lay in adventure, in good company among friends, not the strict rules of an ancient court long since run its course. He was ever proud to be the son of a noble king, but he himself never wished to carry around the weight of the royal court.

"This is true and I am….but I would treat my friends no differently than I do now had I been born a common elf or man alike. I have never been very fond of such rules and astringents and I have never wished for those around me to feel them either. We are friends Maven, friends hold no such formalities".

She was touched by his words, and for some reason just the slightest bit sad that he had called her a 'friend'. She couldn't understand it, and so she brushed aside the notion and tried to politely change the subject.

"Hasufel is as gentle as you say". she began looking off into the distance. There was nothing but open plains spreading out before them, a flat stretch of land that could well house hundreds upon thousands of people. And yet it was wide open. Her homeland was nothing like this it for it was like a desert. With large pillars and stone archways at every turn.. The city itself was filled with beggars markets, and shop owners. Children ran the streets with their pets, Oxen and Cows abundant. And very few horses. The temple tower bell ringing loudly in the distance…..she tore her mind away from the sights and sounds of what once was. For she knew that she would never see those things again. For she could ask to be taken back to her people, it wasn't as if she hadn't thought of it. But after the battle between her people and the Orc's and …..Gorn. She could no more face her own, and felt shamed to go back to a life she knew was a lie.

"Yes he is." he replied his deep voice trailing off. He was so pleased to see her up and moving about, riding his very horse no less. Perhaps now he thought, he might gently press her for information as to why she had been out on the field of battle.

"May I ask you something Maven…" he said rather gently. She turned to face him and felt her stomach drop. There was something dreadful hidden in those words, she just knew it. And yet curiosity took over and she nodded for him to proceed, knowing with all her might that she should have agreed otherwise. His blue eyes grew darker when he fixed them on her and his perfect immortal features took on a look of much wisdom before he spoke.

"The day you were found do you remember much it? Do you know how it is that you became enthralled in battle?"

She stared at him and her soft brown eyes grew wide, and a shame she was trying to gain control of rushed to the surface once more and she drew inward. It was the wrong thing to do, to try and forget or perhaps forget that others might ask about why she had been out there on that most dreadful day. She didn't trust herself to speak, her voice already shaking just above the surface. And she clearly see the worry on Legolas's face when he gauged her reaction. And he swiftly tried to put her at ease and apologize. But sooner or later things would need to reveal themselves, as it was obviously keeping her in pain. And he couldn't stand that.

No matter what he wanted to help her, but she had to help herself first as well. Sitting on a painful memory of not long ago would consume her, long years had revealed that much to him.

"Forgive me…." he began.

A loud thunderclap was heard off in the distance causing horse and rider to jump in alarm. Maven held on tightly to the reins as Hasufel made just the slightest wild movement in his walk. It was going to rain as she had guessed. And that would mean heading back to the castle, and the sanctum of her room. For long moment she said nothing and only nodded in his direction hoping that was good enough.

Eowyn made her way towards them as another loud clap of thunder broke the air, and the first tiny crystal drops of rain began to fall. "We had better had back now, no use getting stuck in this summer down pour". she called. Legolas signaled to her that he indeed understood before turning to Maven.

"Lady Eowyn is right, we had better make haste lest we get caught in the blows of the storm", he said to Maven. Again all she did was nod in his direction, her mood returning to sullen once more. With a sigh he made to ride ahead slightly and take hold of Hasufel's bridle to guide, when his horse, a stallion buy the name of Silvermane reared up right and within the blink of an eye he was thrown. He landed with a loud thud to the ground and as quickly as it happened he was well on his feet again. Maven watched in disbelief as the horse reared again before taking off into the distance as another loud clap of thunder split the air. Legolas had been thrown, he was probably hurt and so she gathered up her skirts and quickly dismounted, panic written all over her. Stopping before him she made to touch him but stopped.

His eyes locked with her as she stood there, the voice of Eowyn coming closer and soon she too quickly dismounted. "Are you alright Master Elf?" she asked once she stood not far from him. Had he been a man the fall might have broken a bone, or left some kind or visible impression of pain. But the Elf showed no sign of pain, only a mild irritation at the entire affair. An amused twinkle in his deep blue eyes.

"Worry not Lady, I am fine. I assure you…..I worry for the steed who has gone off into the heart of nowhere with a storm brewing.". he said. Maven simply stared at him. Trying to understand how it was that he was unharmed from such a throw. She wanted to ask if he was alright, it was written all over her face. To take that extra step and inspect him wither own two hands, but she couldn't….

"I will go after the Stallion, please take Maven back to the city. I will be fine milord for I am well versed in handling a wayward horse. I will meet you in the great hall an hour from now". and with that she mounted her brown roan and was off before anyone could protest. Maven stared off into the direction that Eowyn had gone before realizing that she was alone with Legolas and only one horse to take them both back to the city.

Legolas wasted no time and called for Hasufel who promptly came to his master dipping his head in a show of affection. Grabbing hold of the saddle he effortlessly lifted himself up and onto the animals back before turning round, and extending his hand down to Maven asking that she take it.

"Come Maven….the rains will soon follow". he said smoothly. For a long moment she simply stared at his white hand, a mix of strange feelings tugging her this way and that. It's only his hand, she thought to herself. And he has ever only shown you kindness, there is nothing to fear of him…..on and on her thoughts waged. However the elements gave her no more time to reflect for the rains did fall and she gave a jump in alarm. Looking once more into his blue eyes, now soft in the dimming light, she took hold and sat securely behind him.

"You must hold tightly, I would hate to loose you along the way back to the city" he said, with laughter in his melodious voice. But she could no longer focus on anything, all that her mind could think of was how good it felt to be close to him. And how she never imagined how that could happen.

TBC….

Man that was like the chapter that ran away with itself. Hoped you enjoyed! More soon


	13. Chapter 13

Don't own this...

Chapter 13

Song of the Virgin

The rains did indeed come down with a fury almost the moment she mounted Hasufel, and took hold of Legolas's hand. Having no choice she grabbed a hold of his waist amazed at her won actions. For there was no other way to hold on to him as the stallion, now under his masters care, rode more roughly than he had with her. Perhaps because he wanted to please her that he had been so light afoot and gentle astride. Indeed Legolas had told the animal to do so, but while the Elf sat atop him he could stand to be more of the stallion he was when he had lived on the Rohan.

As the rain fell her eyes began to sting with the unpleasantness of water in her eyes and before she knew it she buried her face in Legolas's back, his long blonde hair offering her a dry place away from the rain. The air had also grown chill, and she shivered against him. He turned briefly to look at her, but quickly found that he could spare not a glance. The weather was gaining in intensity and he worried about the safety of Lady Eowyn. She was a warrior as was he, but still he worried. He said a light prayer to Valar to watch out for her.

In a matter of about fifteen minutes he was at the open gates of the city and rushed in with unbridled haste, headed upward toward the royal stable house. The streets of the city were nearly bare of people as the elements had found their home atop the roofs of the homes and inns along the street. It was remarkable that Hasufel kept his footing on the stone streets as he wound his way upward before turning into the courtyard of the stable house. He effortlessly guided Hasufel to the wing that he was kept stabled in and slowly came to a walk when entering the long halls.

Not wanting to ride the length of the hall he pulled firmly on the reins and Hasufel came to a gentle stop. "Very good my friend" he spoke to the animal, patting him on the neck for assurance, before hands at his midsection reminded him that Maven was seated behind him. He so hoped that he hadn't scared her with his riding, for she was so light behind him that one could easily have forgotten she was there.

"Are you alright Maven?" he asked softly worried. Her throat was dry by now, but she managed to speak, "I am well….". she replied. Her nerves still shaky from this unexpected contact, and he clearly sensed it. Gauging the situation he carefully pulled out of her grip and down from the horse, then beckoned for her to take his hand as he would help her down. Again there was a bubble in the pit of her stomach as she reached out for his cool hands to help her down, his hands at her small waist causing her to jump.

"Its alright, please…." he soothed once he had planted her firmly on her own two feet. She was practically shaking when he released her, no man had been so close to her like this way save….and she shook her head. Suddenly the call of her room jumped into the forefront of her mind, and she made to excuse herself before she realized that Eowyn was gone.

"Will Eowyn be safe, she didn't follow us…how long can it take to calm a horse driven wild by the storm?" she asked growing worried. Eowyn was by far a lot tougher than she could have ever hope to be. From what rumors she had heard Eowyn had stood up to the Witch King and defeated him, a feet no man had ever accomplished. She was a warrior among warriors, but she was still a woman. And for this she feared, what if there were Orc's out there waiting….she wouldn't allow it!

Legolas took note of her wild worried expression and calmed her as best he could. "There is time yet for Eowyns return. She is a very astute warrior, I assure you. For now I think it best that you get inside and to a warm fire. I will see to it that the Lady is safe". his voice was filled with confidence and not for one moment did she fault his confidence. With a respectful nod she gathered up her skirts and expressed her gratitude at the days ride.

"It was my pleasure". he replied.

Maven turned away and ran across the long courtyard toward the steps leading into the castle keep.

Maven found that without the aid of Eowyn she was nearly lost in the large white city, her new home. There were certain landmarks that she recalled to guide her way, but so very many of them looked the same as to cause confusion. Biting her lip she rounded a corner that beheld a log winding staircase that looked hauntingly familiar and she so she strode up it. Careful of her step at every advance, she had nearly tripped more than once on the old white marble staircase abundant all over the castle.

With patience in every step she made it to the very top and recalled that the hall was very familiar and felt positive that just to her left was the wing she was now calling home. Making her way down the hall and rounding the corner she was nearly there when she got careless and turned right into a tall figure.

Strong rough hands reached out and caught her before she fell, and a familiar face fell into view. It was Eomer. It was all over before she could react to his hands and he moved away from her in one swift step, like she was on fire and he could no longer bare the touch. Discomfort and some strange sense of self awareness apparent on his bearded face. He wasted no time with proper formalities.

"Have you seen my sister?" it wasn't really a question, more of a command to respond quickly. Maven felt her breath catch, she had to admit that she was afraid of him. He was tall and broad shouldered quite an imposing figure of a man. His armor was battle worn, and his long golden hair had signs of having been in the sun to long. He frowned at her when she didn't respond.

"I understand my sister spends a lot of her time with you, for what reasons I care not. But she can not linger around like some farm girl, she was to meet me today but never showed. I ask again girl, have you seen her?" each time he spoke his voice seemed all the more harsher. And yet all Maven could think about was being clear of him and safe in her own room, or perhaps with….

"She--, she took me riding this afternoon with Legolas, when his horse bolted. She wanted to retrieve the horse herself and so she took off after him, she's expected back soon…" she hoped she was saying things in the right manner. She didn't want to think of this man getting any more angry or agitated than he already was but to no avail, at the mention of all the information his blue eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He ground his fist in anger all the while standing perfectly still.

"That Elf would allow my sister to run off into a storm after a horse!" he bellowed. Maven winced in reaction to the shear power in his deep voice, but instantly she found that she wanted to defend Legolas and Eowyn, after all Eowyn had insisted that she was more than capable. And she had to make him aware of it.

"Pardon Milord, but it was nothing of the sort….Eowyn decided to retreave the horse herself. Lady Eowyn is the bravest woman I have ever met…..she will be returning soon". she had hoped that she was setting everything right by telling him this, and for a second he just stared at her, like he was amazed that she could speak. Shaking his head he stormed passed her and made his way down the hall, his heavy foot steps echoing on the white marble.

Oh no, she thought…..Eowyn would surely be in trouble if she didn't take action soon. There was not much that she could do, but then it hit her. She truly had been in the city to long, so long and far removed from the ways of her old life that she had forgotten the powers that lay within her and very few other priestesses. Gathering up her long dress she made her way quickly to her room, throwing open the doors and heading straight for her balcony. Opening the doors, which had been closed early that morning she burst through them. The storm was well underway now, and there was lighting off in the distance over the remains of Mordor.

Approaching the railing she pulled loose hairs away from her face and tucked them as securely as she could behind her ears before raising her hands to the sky. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and concentrated, concentrated hard on the task of singing to the rains. She had only done it a few times, perhaps only three or four. But it was enough to learn the art and master it. Very few at the temple had the ability, and if in the hands of an ill experienced priestess could spell disaster. Taking a deep breath she began to recall the chant and the song and then she opened her mouth and sang.

Eomer rounded the steps leading to the courtyard of the stables not really sure in what direction he might find his sister or the Elf. Only recalling that she might be among the horses from Rohan did he head in the direction of the east wing. He was quite angry, angry at her lack of judgment to have run off after some foolish horse in the midst of a storm, at her disregard for their missed meeting and enraged at the Elf Lord for having not stopped her. A mix of images ran through his head again about the Elf from Mirkwood, whom he _never _liked. Always seeing himself as so superior, he thought. A spoiled brat who was only here on the good graces of Gandalf and Aragorn.

He had no real place among men, and should return to the dark hollows of his own realm. Away from his sister and….the image of Maven sprang to his mind. The way her brown eyes looked up at him so fearful. She wasn't what he had originally perceived she would be, some wild savage girl. It bothered him that he saw such trepidation in her ebony face, but he wasn't really directing his rage upon her. Anger was still an emotion that had always run away with him since he was a child. And as he matured into a man it was almost second nature to protect what was his this anger. For it was the reason he was still alive today.

Pushing all thoughts aside he made his way to the east wing and saw two lone figures toward the end of the long corridor. There was no mistaking both forms, Eowyn and Legolas. With a huff he stormed down the hall and could see Eowyn turn in acknowledgement of him. By the time he was mere feet away he caught a glimpse of the Elf and was meet with cold blue fire in those immortal eyes. It was clear that was to be bad blood between the two of them.

"Eomer…" she began.

Eomer gave a great huff before speaking, "You were to met me today sister. There are very pressing matters that must be set in motion now, instead I find that you are taking off for a ride the country and running after wild horses! What has come over you?"

Eowyn never liked fighting with her brother but was all the more stronger for her ability to put him back in his place when it came to his disrespect of her own time and how she used it. Though she was sorry to have missed their meeting, and was about to apologize for it had it not been for his rude demeanor. "I must remind you brother that I am my own person, I am an individual and if a ride in the country among friends is my desire than I have a right to act upon it. I am sorry that I missed our meeting, we have all evening to discuss these matters. Right now if you wish". she said.

"Not in front of him!" came Eomers quick and venomous reply. There was such ice in his tone as he said it and was felt by all three and none more so than Legolas. Who locked eyes with the Horse Lord and refused to break the stare until Eown stood between them even though neither man made mention to a physical fight.

"Eomer! Get a hold of yourself, I ask you to please be respectful to all manner of men and Elves while in this city. Legolas has done nothing wrong…"

"Nothing wrong you say, he just let you run off into a storm to get a horse? Who knows what manner of beast could have been out there waiting for you. The Dark Lord might be dead but his seeds of evil are still abound! If he is a friend to this kingdom he should not have let you run off so---"

"ENOUGH" came the deep and serious tone of Legolas tired of the entire argument. It wasn't his place really to get involved and he made a point to detach himself as quickly as possible. Human fighting over ones independence was most comical to him. Especially men who wanted to govern over woman as he clearly saw Eomer just now.

Eomer shot him a look that was laced with the deepest hate he could stomach, amazed that the Elf had not backed down yet. And for a second he wondered what it might be like to go up against an immortal, one of the 'chosen' as Gandlaf had called them. They were nothing more to Eomer then men and women with pointed ears, he saw nothing so special about them. And wasn't about to run around on eggshells for this one either.

Taking a breath and trying to be some kind of voice of reason he spoke, "The Lady is correct in her conviction Lord Eomer. It is always wise to respect the will of others, even if one disagrees. It was the Lady's choice to recall the stallion, if you must know. And up until a moment ago I had only just returned from searching after her myself to ensure her safe return, good day". and with that the he gave a respectful bow to the both of them and left the stables of the east wing only to pause briefly, as though to acknowledge a distant sound, before moving on.

Eomer stared after him calling him all kinds of cowards for not calling out the fight that was sure to have erupted had Eowyn not been there. He turned to face his sister and speak again when she to began to leave, anger in her young face.

"I will see you in the great hall". and she too left the stables. Eomer stood bewildered, balling his fist that at every turn there seemed be opposition to his every word. He would soon be rid of this city and return to his lands, and there the title of king awaited him. It was a deed he was not looking forward to.

The rains had ceased and the fierce winds had begun to slow to that of a mild summer breeze. Maven found that she was nearly drained of energy as she stood on the balcony, her arms feeling heavy as though she had just lifted mountains of stone from the nearby hills. Her song had reached the gods, and the rains had began to ebb back until finally there was nothing left but a brief mist of water upon her face. She clasped her hands together and said a silent thank you to the gods, as well as an apology for calling upon them in the first place. For she still felt most unworthy of herself. Pulling herself together she entered a room and sat down hard upon her bed drawing her dress up with her, cradling her legs to her chest.

Today had been quite adventure, one she never would have expected. She had ridden a horse today. Something she had never done before and rather enjoyed it. She had also been touched by two men, though only in the barest of ways and only to aid her in some manner. But still it sat on her mind and refused to go away. After the Orc…..she had no idea what kind of panic might swell within her at the touch of any male ever again. And she was far from alright even now reflecting upon it. Eomer had been rough in his treatment when talking to her since she had been introduced, but his touch was not intrusive in any manner. Though she would stay as far away from him as she could given his cold blue eyes and stern sense of manners.

Then her mind wandered to the other male, to the Elf Prince, Legolas. Though he seemed to dislike mention of his royal stature. And with a slight sigh she realized now that he was as far removed from that title as could be. He really was more like a 'common man' or 'elf'. There was always warmth and understanding emanating from him. And a peace while in his company she enjoyed. His touch, though frighting at first was not unpleasant or unbearable. Only foreign. But felt oddly good, sending shivers through her spine to even recall. What did it all mean….

None of this was ever supposed to have happened. She was to live her life in the service of the Goddess at the temple, the only men she would ever have seen would have been the guards there to protect her and that of her sisters. The idea of love with a man was taboo and any priestesses who made talk of such things were punished or shunned for their desires of the flesh. She had seen first hand how one such priestess was tossed out of the order for her affair with a man. A local merchant. No one ever knew what became of her.

It mattered not now anyway she was away from that life. She was a different woman now. A changed soul after war, after the brutality of it. There was no need to compare her life at the temple and that of her life now. There was no comparison. And still she fought whatever curious emotions she was beginning to develop towards the later of the men. Tried to forget the safe way she felt while near him, he was a friend. One of the only male friends she had ever had. Was this what it was like to be friends with the opposite sex? She pondered as her eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed her.

Thanduil stood in the great hall awaiting his son. There was to be a feast tonight for very soon he and his son would leave. Along with any other children of the Valar that remained after the coronation. It was improper to over stay ones welcome even when the host insisted, there was still a level of respect to be maintained. The days had passed slowly for the Elf King who at all costs tried to avoid contact with as many people (humans) as he possibly could save for the king. Both newly crowned monarchs had taken to the kings royal suites as a means of a honeymoon. Aragorn refused to leave the city now that he had taken the crown. Vowing that upon the throne would always sit a just and noble man. Worry ever present that some loyal vassal of the former steward mike seek to usurp him.

When Thranduil inquired about who this mortal might be, Aragorn had no clear answer only that he knew with certainty the city was not totally safe in his absence. And so here he remained with his beloved, Arwen. A king and a guard over a most coveted throne. The hall was filling now with many humans as he watched the servant girls move here and there filling glasses, checking seating arrangements, proper lighting etc. It was a feast like any other and was repeated to many nights before hand to count.

It was the same in his land, only the scenery was much more greener, out in the open amongst the stars. With the song of his people echoing in his ears, the swirling of dancers to the sounds of the elf flute. The vats of good wood elf wine that drove the men of lake town crazy with thirst. A smile came to his face as he saw his homeland so vividly. And very soon now he would leave and take his wild son along with him. His son, at that thought he began to look around the hall. He should have been here an hour ago. What had he been doing with himself while in this city. Ah, of course. It came back to him in a hurry, as the poor girl really was insignificant, that his son had become infatuated with that mortal girl.

The Harad maiden whom the king had vowed to look after. She was the reason for his sons miraculous disappearances he was certain. Just what his son found so captivating about such a strange human wench was beyond him. But he felt certain that he would put a stop to it and tonight would be that deciding factor, for surely the girl would be at the feast. A guest as always to the King.

"Milord?" came the soft voice of an Elf Maiden just off to the right of him. He turned to face her, and recognized her as one of his late wife's ladies in waiting. Her name was Mylyndria and she was most fair. She had green eyes, and her skin shone like sea shells, with long golden hair and two tiny twin braids pulled behind each ear. The barest glint of a tiara upon her head. She was not royalty but her father had fought in the great wars along side him many hundreds of years ago. Always a common fixture among the court after his wife's passing, she was very shy and elusive even for an elf. He had a sudden change of mind as he looked at her now. Any man Human or Elf alike would have desired her, perhaps she was just what was needed….

"It is nice to see this evening Lady, tell me have you seen my son?" he asked offhand. A king never asked his servants such a thing, for a king always knows where the heir to his throne may be. It was written clearly on her face this very same riddle as she blinked hard, albeit most politely before she made to answer. Surely the king must know where his own son is? What on Middle Earth was wrong, that her own king not know this.

"I have not seen him sire". she replied with s polite curtsey. Thranduil smiled, she seemed nice enough. He could really ever recall having a conversation with her. Indeed she was beautiful, polite, well spoken. Of some heritage he knew. She would do just fine. "Hmm very well, come sit beside me. Tonight we shall talk of our long journey home and the glorious celebrations we shall have upon our arrival. Again Mylyndria was spell bound and as a trained servant of the royal household for quite sometime did as she was asked and took the seat directly beside the king.

TBC….


	14. Chapter 14

Don't own this...

Chapter 14

Song of the Virgin

The Kings Wrath

The Banquet in the Kings hall began just after sunset and was quite a gallant affair. There were the usual delegates from the various lands and provinces, many dwarves had been invited against Thrnduil's silent disdain, a few Hobbits as well. The great hall was filled that evening with laughter and good cheer, music and celebration in honor of its new king and queen and a constant reminder of the fall of the Dark Lord.

Tharnduil sat at the head of his table his son at his side, having finally emerged from his place of hiding over the last few days. However it was clear to the Elf King that his sons mind was not on the feast, the music, or good cheer. Instead his eyes seemed to be darting around toward another table and a particular female perched there, the Harad maiden. Again the Elf King twisted in silent anger that his son was so enthralled with some mere slip of a mortal girl. And not just any mortal girl, but a Harad. A people who had been on the opposite side of this war. Had aided the dark lord, and here he was watching her with a deep seated lust in his immortal eyes.

That was all it was he concluded, some bizarre lustful passion or spell the girl had woven over his son. It was nothing to be to concerned about, but still there was always the possibility that his son saw more than he let on. Taking a sip from his wine glass he swirled the liquid around in his glass while starring over the rim at his son, and the object of his sons attention.

The musicians began to slow their melody with their instruments and a hush fell over the hall as dancers took to the floor. Many lords asked their ladies to dance, and soon the floor was a blur of movement as it often was at such events. He could sense his sons indecision in getting to his feet and moving off toward the table where the young Harad girl was seated. Instead he took a sip from his glass and looked away as if he knew his fathers hawk like eyes had been watching him, in anticipation of his movements. The two Elf monarchs now sat alone at the table watching the movement of Humans, Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits proceed in practiced dances.

"Father what is on your mind?" he asked askance as he took another sip of his wine savoring the delicate taste.

It was amazing how he could do that, thought Thranduil. "What on earth my son, can a father not admire his only son and heir. Indeed I would dare say that there is something or _someone_ on your mind this night?" he chided. Legolas did not care for the laced undertone in his voice.

"Father, need we go through this again…."

"Yes my son we shall. Until you come to your senses about what ever interest you have in such a girl, I must insist. If it is something as base as lust I would say to get it out of your system , bed the girl and be done with it. She seems rather…." but Thranduil had yet to finish his sentence before Legolas got up and left the table, with as much grace as he could given his swell of anger at his father. Not many noticed the disturbance between the two royals, but there were a few, Gandalf having been one of them. And so the White Wizard made his way not toward the Elf Prince but instead toward the Mirkwood King.

Thranduil saw the wizards approach and his entire demeanor changed, "Ahhhh! Mithirandir please, sit with me. Long has it been since we have shared a table or a drink under such cause of celebration. Please, will you join an old man?" he beamed extending his hand towards the wizard. Gandalf was hardly fooled by his sweet disposition but opted to be kindly and nodded in agreement after taking a seat across from the ruler.

"How fare you good king? Is all well in the house of Greenleaf?" asked the wizard deciding to skip right to the heart of the matter. He was no fool, nor was he blind. It was well known to him Thranduil's dislike of humans in general, always opting to stay as far away from them as he possibly could or any non elf folk. Though through all of it Thrnduil was not evil by any means, only a bit narrow minded and at the worst old fashioned.

Thanduil seemed to stammer a minute before replying, "My house is always in order good magician. I can most assure you of that," he took one last sip of his wine and downed it quickly, "yes in most proper order. Thank you".

"Well then tell me, what of your son. He seems to be spending less time with his father these days and in the company of friends. I have never seen young Legolas act so, impulsively".

Thranduil's mood changed from respectful and jolly to reserved and guarded all at once. His old blue eyes began to affix on Gandalf in a fashion that was a warning. "To what are you implying Gandalf that I know not my own son, or my house? You know not of what you speak?" glared the king. By now some elves had overheard the conversation and were staring, to witch Thranduil quickly shot glares of intense warning and they turned away back to their own deep conversations.

"My son is all I have, I will not see him waste himself on a----, on some silly girl that has caught his fancy! A girl of no prestige, no lineage no name. No country! She is beneath both he and myself. And it is not your place to say otherwise Mithirandir". this time all kindness had gone from the kings voice, and instead it was raw and detached. All Gandalf could do was nod his head in silent agreement and respect, surely he didn't mean to overstep his bounds but the King was wrong about his prejudices. He had known from the day the girl arrived here in Minas Tirith that there was some strange fate pulling the elf prince and the girl together. He had an eye for these things, an inner voice that told him long before events would come to pass. And he had also known from history and experience the reaction of old king Thranduil when he found out or in the slightest suspected his son of falling for a human girl.

Meanwhile across the hall Maven sat at a rather empty table watching the dancers on the floor, curious of what it might be like to be out there. Dancing and swirling, holding hands with a partner as two became one and moved in seemless rhythms to enchanting music. But she sat alone now, Eowyn of course had sat beside all evening, until Captain Faramir had asked her to dance. She declined him several times, and so he danced with other partners, but he always came back to her. His gentle eyes ever persuading and charismatic until she could no longer afford to hold back. She had asked Maven if she would be alright at the table all alone, to which she nodded and assured her that she was fine.

But inside she wasn't really, inside she felt a million miles away as she watched men and women move together on the dance floor. Holding one another, expressing something in their glances that made her that much more curious about the intimacies of a man and a woman. Her hands began to fidget at the long wait, as many men passed long gazes over her as they drank their wine, laughed a bit in her direction and quickly turned away.

Always on the outside she thought, on the outside looking in. For the one hundredth time she mulled over her new purpose in life since she had survived that attack on her people and her own person. That she had lived when so many had died in her stead was a miracle and she knew she should be grateful and she was, but for some reason at times like this she wished she were dead.

With a long sigh she got up and moved away from the table, her long elegant white gown flowing out behind her like a bride about to be swept away. Her absence from the table did not go completely unnoticed as Eomer who had been watching her from behind a pillar took a deep drink from hi wine glass before setting the glass down and headed off in her direction. She did look breath taking in that dress tonight, with her long dark curly black hair hanging in loose curls. Her ebony skin shining in the soft glow of nearby candle light, her innocent brown eyes like that of a wounded dove. He didn't understand what it was about her. Perhaps it was that she was so far unlike any woman from the Rohan.

No matter what it was he was enthralled by her from afar, never wanting others to know of his budding curiosity towards the maiden. She was far younger than him, but not that young as to be a child. His mind made up he moved towards her with steady steps, not caring who saw his intense stares in her direction. At the very least he could talk to her, and really speak openly. Hoping beyond hope that he had not scared her so that she would cower away in response. It took only a minute before he was behind her, while she was faced away from him. Her eyes on the movement of the dance floor. "Would the lady care to dance?" he asked his voice soft and even. She whirled around, familiar with the bass tone in that voice and the caution that it brought every time. It was Eomer, dressed rather plainly like a true lord of his people. Donning a rich reddish brown tunic, and matching slacks. His sun kissed blonde hair loose but groomed and clean. He no longer looked the part of a wild horsemen from the plains, but a true gentlemen. It shocked her.

She didn't know what to say, it was the last thing at all she expected tonight when most other men of the hall simply stared at her and laughed. "Milord is too kind, but I am afraid….I am ill experienced in the art of dancing. I am sorry…" she said and blushed slightly tuning away. His eyes were soft as he gazed upon her, unlike before when there had been clear disdain and anger between the lines and his meaning. But he was no easily thwarted by her lack of knowledge at dancing, in fact it peaked his desire to show her how to.

"It is very simple, you simply follow your partner. See….," and he pointed to the dance floor towards a couple that was within reach, "move as one. Back and forth". A chill ran down Mavens spine the way he said that and she couldn't help but feel as though she did want to dance, just not with him. He was being to forward, to insistent. Again she found herself declining.

"Milord is too kind, but I can not…." and she shook her head a bit roughly to stress her point and apparent discomfort at the notion. Finally he nodded in understanding but remained where he stood unable to want to break from her company. "I have frightened you in the past, I am sorry". She couldn't believe her ears, he was saying 'sorry'? This mighty warrior who so often attacked her with venom in his tone was apologizing.

Suddenly years of being a priestess and of forgiveness of others slammed back into her rationale mind, if the lord was expressing his deep apologies then she would accept. She nodded towards him and gave him the barest of smiles, "All is forgiven milord, I understand your mistrust of others. Of those new to you". His blue eyes widened a bit at her insight and he smiled back at her again wondering about what else might be going through her mind.

"The lady is most kind, tis a shame that I can not have the honor of one dance." he said with childish grin on his bearded face. Maven began to fidget again and looked around the dance floor, it was emptying now. And the music was changing from that of a rather up beat song to that of a dance only lovers might find appealing. A sense of dread grew over her for she knew he was aware of this change in melody and would ask her again as the new song began. He moved to stand before her and gave a bow while extending his right hand towards her.

She stared at his hand not sure in the least what security it might offer her out there on the floor, but curiosity was never a game she liked to play, and so she took his hand. Unlike Legolas's hands Eomers were rough and slightly hardened. But at the same time reassuring in feel, like they would never let her go, or let her come to harm. He gently guided her to the dance floor and clasped his right and in hers while his left hand rested at the small of her back. Butterflies assailed her stomach as she didn't have another second to decline, and she was forced to move along with him to the slow steady rhythms the musicians played.

All eyes fell upon them almost immediately, Eowyn watched from across the floor as she too danced with her partner in disbelief that Maven was not only up and away from the table but dancing with of all people her brother. A great smile came to her as she watched from behind Farimir the strange scene before her. Aragorn was talking with Gandlaf when he too noticed.

"Well, look at that" he began. Gandlaf turned to face the floor in the direction of the kings gaze. There he saw Maven dancing side by side with the future king of Rohan. He too was amazed at the scene and smiled that it was a good thing. Meanwhile King Thranduil had been making small conversation with a group of noblemen when he noticed the awe of the crowd directed at one particular couple making their way about the dance floor. To his amazement the Harad girl was dancing with the new Lord of the Mark. A wicked smile came to his face as he looked around instantly for his son who had managed to disappear all evening after their abrupt fight. But he didn't have to ponder much longer when he saw his son standing not far away, a distant look in his eye as watched the girl move at ease with the tall lord of the mark.

A slight swell of jealously gnawed at him only enough to make him aware of how silly it was before he brushed the feeling aside and vowed to be the next man to dance with her. By now the sweet song had ended and the dancers had exchanged bows with their partners before moving off the center of the dance floor. In one steady movement he made his way towards the couple.

Thranduil watched as his son took off rather anxiously towards Eomer and the girl. It was now time to in act the first phase of his plan. Excusing himself from the group of noblemen he headed back to his table and called for the young elf maiden Mylyndria to accompany him. She stood quickly at her kings command and was at his side swiftly, a look of devotion and anticipated joy on her face.

"Do you recall all that we have discussed my child? Are you ready?" he asked. Mylyndria gave a nod as she looked across the room at the elf prince, this was a dream come true. And she could scarcely believe what the king had asked of her, only knowing that she and she alone had been asked. It was a duty she told herself, a chance to prove her undying loyalty to her king her kingdom and her prince.

Not but moments later Maven saw Legolas approach a warm smile as always on his face when he looked at her. She returned the smile with a slight blush as well, Eomer noticed her change in demeanor and turned to see the elf prince's coming approach. Instantly his jovial attitude went from joy to guarded and it was clearly picked up on by the prince who instead chose to ignore him all together. "Good evening Maven, Lord Eomer". It shocked Eomer that he had addressed her so openly, like they were old friends while he as still being so respectful and making certain to address her as a lady at all times. Maven felt her face grow hot with the heat of a blush as she looked at him and he looked at her. It made her feel like some little girl. Though it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"I could not help but notice how beautifully you dance. And nothing could fill my heart more this night than to be the next to dance with you".

Legolas's open admittal floored both Maven and Eomer, to which Maven again found that she could not say no. He offered his hand as Eomer had and she was just about to take it when King Thranduil arrived, at his side a very beautiful elf maiden with long golden blonde hair and deep green eyes. But the look in the elf maidens eyes was not warm and Maven found that she had to break the gaze right away for there was a warning there. Legolas turned to acknowledge his father.

"Father…what…"

"My son! How neglectful you are, yes. How neglectful indeed to ignore your betrothed on such a lovely occasion. Not offering to take her hand once this night to dance. The shame, I thought for sure that I had instilled better manners within you".

"Betrothed..?" cried Legolas and for some reason he turned instantly to Maven to gauge her expression at this news though it was a lie. Instantly the laughter and good cheer fell away from her face, and she withdrew her hand, her demeanor crestfallen. She wouldn't look at him. Eomer suddenly found a new found reason to dislike the elf prince, and quickly ushered Maven away to get her a drink before flashing the elf prince one last hard look before moving off.

Rage boiled within Legolas as he turned to look at the woman on his fathers arm, and then toward the king himself. "Father what are you playing at? What lie is this, I am betrothed to no one! Is this how afar you would seek, to destroy my friendship with Maven?"

"My son it is you who are deluding yourself, that you are friends with that girl. I am not exaggerating in my earlier statements, I would like you to meet Mylyndria Willowhaven. She is to be your bride upon our return to Mirkwood".

TBC……

Dun Dun Dun!


	15. Chapter 15

Don't own this...

Chapter 15

Song of the Virgin

Legolas could only stare at his father, his gaze burning with disdain and heartache that his own father was so intent to ruin his life. To govern over him as though he were a child of ten. He had in the past tried to force marriage upon him, throwing elaborate balls and dances in his honor in hopes that he would choose from the bevy of elf women in attendance. His father proclaiming many times to him his need to have a grandchild, to carry on the line of Mirkwood Elves that had chosen to stay behind. But this desire, nay obsession was slowly causing him to hate his father, or at the very least drive him from the golden halls of his home toward the unknown.

Thranduil stood proudly smiling at passers by as though nothing were amiss. Mylyndria stood taller than usual as she tried to lock her lustful eyes with Legolas who wouldn't look at her. And when their eyes did meet it was Mylyndria who had to look away, from the sheer force of his fury. She even tried to excuse herself but the king advised her to stay put.

"Let her go father she has served her purpose tonight to play along with your plans has she not. I give you leave to go Mylyndria, and you are to dismiss whatever promises my father has made with regards to our 'marriage'. go now…." said Legolas. He wasn't angry with her, she was only going along with what her King had so dragged her into. Thranduil was not so easily defeated not even by his own son. When Mylyndria did leave them Thranduil could barely keep his anger in check.

"How dare you my son, how dare you!" he gritted out, not wanting everyone to hear them fight.

"No father it is you who have dared, to interfere in my life. I make my own decisions father, I have taken on the responsibilities you have given me. I would take on a hundred more out of love and respect for you. But I will not have you dictate to me whom I may befriend or whom I may love!"

Thranduil felt his heart freeze in his chest, love? Had he just heard his son correctly, how could this happen? He has already allowed himself to….to fall in love with this human girl. By the gods it was already to late…..he so hoped that he misunderstood. It was to soon for such things.

"You love this _human_ _girl_….?" he asked still shocked.

"I care for her and I am concerned for her welfare. My point father, is that you can not force me to marry. It is fate to cruel for our kind to bind themselves to one they do not love…"

"My son," interjected the elf king," its is a far crueler fate to bind oneself to a mortal who will die and bring heartache upon you. I am still your father, and your king. My word is law. If marriage is the only thing that will pull you back under control in my kingdom then so be it. You _will _obey me, you will do as I say". and with that he turned away from his son headed back towards his table.

Legolas could say nothing as he watched his father leave, his fists clenched firmly as he replayed the words of his father over in his mind. A forced marriage, it wouldn't happen. He would refuse and that was all there was to it. His father would simply have to live with this and that was his final thought on the matter as he turned to locate Maven, he hadn't liked the look on her face at news of his so called marriage.

Maven accepted the drink that Eomer offered her, a warm smile on his face. A feature she was not at all accustomed to. Taking the goblet of juice, as she never drank wine, she sipped it and thanked him for his kindness. She was confused and she wasn't really sure why. Somehow news of Legolas impending marriage to another bothered her, and how could he spend so much time with both herself and Eowyn when he had a beloved waiting just nearby. With a deep sigh she lowered her gaze to the dark liquid in her goblet hoping that within it would lay answers to questions she didn't realize existed.

Eomer stood and watched her, watched her smile fade from her beautiful Carmel skin into a dull pout that was only put there recently due to that elf. It was clear to Eomer in the span of five minutes that the girl was interested in the later male, and perhaps a bit more. Her crestfallen face was a clear testament to him that something was brewing between them. What it was exactly he was not certain but it caught him by surprise that he should care. She was after all just a girl, very different from most girls or women from his realm but still all female none the less. Such a beauty should never have to wait in the wings for someone so haughty as the elf lord to whom she was infatuated with. Before he could fathom such a thing he spoke up.

"You needn't trouble yourself with care milady, that is after all in the nature of Elves. To play around in the lives of men, when it is most convenient for them". he said after scanning the crowd and then taking a sip from his own goblet of dark ale. Maven turned to look up at him, shocked by his blunt understanding of every emotion playing across her face. Was it that obvious that she liked him, that she was unnerved by this recent news. Her dark brown eyes darted everywhere but toward the horse lord, afraid that he would see more than her soul wanted to reveal. Again she asked herself why she was feeling anything, anything at all for Legolas. In truth she barely knew him, or very much about his background to gauge anything of real substance to even fall for. But at the same time there was the way he looked at her. Though innocent at times, and most respectful there were a few times she thought she imagined a look of deepest desire in those blue orbs, try as she might to think otherwise. And just now his look was a mixture of shock and of….pleading. He seemed to be in distress at his fathers presence. Taking a sip from her juice she concluded that she was imagining it. Though she couldn't agree with Eomer, Legolas was far from deceitful this she knew.

"Milord, I think perhaps you assume to much. I have never been wronged by an Elf, and as such I can not judge…." she stated, unwilling to look him in the eye. Suddenly he seemed to revert back to his former self, that of a stern imposing figure and his soft glare changed from kind to reserved in a flash. He made to cross his arms and shook his head ever so slightly, would this girl not see that the elf had been using her and her companionship for his own pleasure.

"There is much you need to learn about elves girl", he began in a huff," they take their pleasure where they can find it, and care not for those they leave behind in their wake. You would be wise to abandon any thoughts of something beyond friendship".

Instantly Maven's eyes grew wide in surprise that he had just spoken again so bluntly, and matter of fact. Lord Eomer was certainly a man who spoke his mind when he felt the need arise, and it left Maven uncertain again to be in his presence. But it was soon to take a turn when Legolas located them and approached as quickly and respectfully as possible. He looked grand in the garb of his people as he approached, wearing a cream colored tunic that was laced with glints of gold and copper. His pale skin almost glowing in the light of the hall. Only his eyes seemed troubled when she caught his gaze briefly, his dark brows slightly bent in worry or exasperation. She stood perfectly still, as Eomer drank deeply from his cup. The musicians began to play another haunting number that called for couples to take to the floor, and now in recent unfolding she knew she mustn't dance with Legoals.

For what would people say?

Before she could react he was upon them and she heard Eomer give a great sigh of annoyance at the arrival of the elf lord. To which he quickly downed his drink and excused himself. Legolas watched him go, relieved to some instance that he was spared the required formalities. He turned his eyes down toward Maven who was smaller than him in height and stature. Her tiny face refusing to look up at him. How he wanted to touch her, but held his hand firm.

"Maven forgive my father's intrusion, there are times when even he forgets his manners. Might I ask that we talk outside there are things I would say for your ears only…." he said. Maven couldn't believe any of this, he was asking to talk to her alone? When his intended was in this very hall probably watching from the shadows, loathing her with her every breath.

For the first time she declined his kindness and refused. "I am sorry _milord_, but I can not," she made sure to stress the proper formality," but you are otherwise detained. I am weary now and wish to retire….the dance has drained me of energy. Good night milord…" she said and made to move away when the soft call in his voice made her heart skip a beat.

"I am not betrothed Maven".

She briefly shut her eyes in relief at the news from his own lips, it did make her feel somehow lighter. More assured to know this, yet still she couldn't understand why. What sway had he taken hold of in her heart to make her feel so ambiguous about her own feelings, feelings towards him. For him…..

For a moment she couldn't respond and so she simply stood there and watched as people moved about around her, men talking just over to her right. A group of Dwarves laughing heartily, some eleven women casting curious glances her way whispering amongst themselves. She began to gather the folds of her dress in a nervous fidget when she sensed his approach from behind her. He stood only a few inches away from her, ever respectful.

He had something he wished to discus with her….for her alone. She couldn't help but to be intrigued. And there was this feeling that she could trust him, that he meant her no harm.

She let her head drop slightly afraid of her own actions and the sound of her own voice, "As you wish milord….." she whispered softly. There was no defeat in her voice, only a sense of the unknown. Legolas responded by giving her a warm smile and extending his hand towards her, encouraging her to take it. As a token of good will perhaps, and to his own surprise she accepted. His hand was cool compared to her own, and steady. Holding her hand as gently as one might try to guide a lost soul he led her towards an open archway that led out a balcony. Before she could think about what was unfolding before her eyes she was standing along side him on the balcony that was blessedly empty of another living soul. Once alone in the dark expanse of the night sky she pulled her hand away from him as tenderly as she could so as not to seem rude.

With a deep breath she stood away from him and stared out over the banister, her hands clasped before her like she was about to pray unsure of what to say or do next now that they were indeed alone.

TBC….

Sorry this chapter was more of a teaser.


	16. Chapter 16

Don't own this...

Chapter 16

Song of the Virgin

"The stars mirror your beauty tonight Maven," he began after a long moment of silence passed between them. Instantly a blush came to her face and she was ever so thankful that she was faced away from him, assured some privacy even now that he could not see it. But she held fast to her silence, it made her feel strange that he was paying her such ridiculous compliments. He was supposed to be a friend, as he proclaimed many times. There was something that had changed and she could feel it deep within her own soul. For she was feeling it now to. She leaned against the balcony as though it could offer her the weight of the world as her dark eyes scanned the dark horizon. Indeed the stars shown brightly tonight, giving weary travelers everywhere a guide home.

All but her, she thought. A stranger kept walled up in a great city of white stone, and distant people. For a long moment she nearly forgot that the elf lord was near until he moved beside her and the slight rustle of his clothing brought her out of her forlorn thoughts.

"I sense uncertainty welling within you Maven, and I wish to be of help in taking these feelings away from your heart.". he said. He was shocked by his own blatant admittal, this was not like him and he knew it. Never in his entire existence had he been so inexplicably drawn to a female who was so sensitive and young. One who was as fragile to him as the softest flower set adrift in the wildest of rain storms. She was all of these things, beautiful, sensitive, strong and compassionate. He could sense that though she kept it all very well hidden behind her small frame and demure eyes. Perhaps he thought with a slight smile, his father was right and he had fallen for the girl. Beyond anything but friendship. At that moment it was the only thing he wanted to give his father any credit for.

"Milord is too kind….but I must face my troubles alone. As I always have….." she whispered and he barely heard her. She couldn't face him just what was going on she pondered. It was like the air itself was on fire, he was standing so close to her that it both thrilled and frightened her at the same time. She knew that she was going to break down any moment from the weight of it all, to cry….or to be held she wasn't certain. And the elf could sense it.

"Many times in the past days you have been reminded Maven that you are not alone. By all the Valar it is true, you are surrounded by those here in this city who would care for you. Protect you from all the evils of this world. Have you never before had true friends Maven?" he asked not able to help himself. In that moment he was pulled back into a memory of the first time he saw her. Under horrible conditions infact, she was wounded an arrow in her side. Her white robes stained with blood, her body gone cold and limp in his arms. It was a painful memory, one an immortal such as he could soon forget had he not lost a part of himself along the way. And he knew now that he had, there was no denying it any longer. The girl his father despised had taken root in heart, he was in love with her. A feeling so strong it begged to be set free, upon the object of affection. He knew that very soon he would have to tell her. Just when would be the right time. But the memory of how he first came upon her would never leave his mind, she had never revealed to him why she had been there or how she became entangled in war.

"My friends have all been lost to me milord, the evils of this war took what family I have ever had. And left me alone to bear the scars….that I lived. That I alone lived through….it when they did not…," she could feel her reserve about to break. Instantly she turned to leave. He had wanted to tell her something in bringing her outside to the balcony but it had seemed lost along the way. She was now feeling very self conscious about herself and visions of her past began to come back in waves. The attack by the Orcs. Loren and Sarah, the warriors in her troop. The screams….Gorn. No, now was not the time to let her mind be pulled back there. She had tried in the past weeks to push it away to bury it deep within the corner of her mind. But now it was like a fresh wound. And she deeply wanted these memories to stay there, Legolas could never know.

Again he watched her turn away from him, her long skirts flowing out behind her. Her long dark midnight hair a veil behind her. Not again he thought, no. Tonight he simply had to tell her his feelings as well as gain a better understanding of what happened to her. His intentions true he stopped her with but his voice.

"I care very deeply for you Maven". he said his voice firm yet full of apparent emotion. Maven was caught in midstep upon his words, her hands now clutched tightly to her chest, her heart beating madly just beneath the surface. She took a deep breath and allowed his words to ring through her ears and her mind. What was he saying, and why? She wasn't worth such caring, such apparent devotion from him. If he only knew she reckoned, if he only knew to what degree she was damaged he would bring an end to this madness right now. He was not a friend anymore but a man, a man on the verge of spilling his heart to her and that was more frightening than anything she had yet faced.

"Milord cant know what he is saying….please I beg you to forget all about me. I am not worth your feelings …." she began now unable to hold back the tears that had long ago threatened to fall. Just what was happening to him, what was happening to her own heart at hearing him say such words bothered her more. He was a man, nay an elf. A member of an ancient royal family, what care could he possibly have for a girl like herself. A forgotten priestess, a fallen one?

"Maven I can no more forget you now than the day on which I first saw you. Do you recall that day Maven, on the fields just below?" he asked with all seriousness in his soft tone. Long had it been since that day and now it seemed most appropriate to talk of it now that she appeared to be somewhat open to discuss it. She wiped at a long fallen tear angrily, "I wish to forget that day, I wish it never happened!" she replied bitterly her frail voice wavering. He shook his head at her and no longer could he hold back from wanting to hold her and it took him only seconds to be at her side his hands gently gripping her shoulders turning her around to face him. She was more frail now as her dark brown eyes looked up at him briefly before turning away in shame to stare down at his large white hands on her skin. His grip was firm but reassuring. Maven couldn't help but feel her breath catch at his touch, the apparent closeness to which he held her. His dark blue eyes filled with emotion and barely contained passion, he was serious and in his stare she knew she would break under the weight of it. He would pull the truth from her and she knew it. One could not look into the eyes of an immortal for long without loosing ones soul.

Staring at his hands she tried to place her thoughts elsewhere, that she was back in her rooms, or home in her lands among her people. That she was just an ordinary woman and had never been a priestess at all. A simple life that had long since never been available to her.

A cool finger underneath her chin brought her eyes up to stare at deep blue ones, his face full of unchecked concern as he stared deeply at her. She felt a shiver run through her, only really making note now of how close he was and how comfortable she felt at the proximity. She knew she shouldn't, that she should fear this contact with this man. Or any other but Legolas was so warm, so gentle. Such feelings of fear and escape never really caused alarm.

"I want only to help you Maven, to care for you. To share the promise of a life lived without fear and with friends and laughter. You deserve this and more. I beg you do not push me away. Whatever your past I care not….yet you can not dwell in it alone. Let me help you…let me l…"

"And I cant allow it milord please….I beg you!" she replied still held firmly in his gentle touch. He smiled at her, his face drawing closer to her own. "Why Maven, why can you not allow me in? What horrors have you faced that could keep you from wanting happiness? From wanting anyone to care for you, I will not yield. What happened to you on the day I first saw you, why does the presence of an Orc torment your mind so?" he asked. He watched her face fall and loose all trace of emotion, her small lips began to tremble and quiver. A tear laced its way down her smooth skin and he watched it fall. Out of sheer nervousness she drew her lips in a small pout before wetting them. His dark blue eyes lowered in response, an unspoken rule since the dawn of time that she desired to be kissed. And his more animalistic need took precedence, lowering his face towards hers he saw her eyes flutter and then close as his lips met hers.

And he kissed her.

It was strange for the both of them at first, neither really realizing what was happening. It was as if the heavens had pushed them together. Like a powerful spell that had to evoked, a calling that neither could deny for much longer. Maven could do little but shut her eyes and try to understand what was happening, even a priestesses knew what a kiss was. She was far from that innocent, and she was shocked all the same that it was pleasurable as he kissed her, his soft hands now holding firmly to her back stroking the sensitive skin up and down, ever so gently. Her own arms wrapped around him of their own accord and she began to release the softest of moans. Was this what it was like to have a mans love, without fear or shame? Her mind reeled in those few seconds before it was over and he pulled away, still holding her firmly within his arms. Instantly he saw how flushed she looked and he knew for certain that she was as innocent as he'd suspected and most likely a virgin.

When she didn't meet his eyes he grew fearful that he had moved to fast, that he had let his need to touch her push her away out of fear. "Maven, are you all right? I am sorry…." he began. She shook her head at him as if she was denying a question only she knew the answer to. Pulling herself out of his embrace she moved away from him a few steps and really took a look at him. He was the most attractive man or elf she had ever seen, he towered over her in stature. His strong shoulders she imagined hidden under his tunic were sure to possess all the power dreamed of to keep her safe from any harm. His skill as a warrior was legend and common knowledge among all people of Minas Tirith. She had heard many tales of his valor in battle. But was this right, was what just happened proper, what did it all mean. Why had he done that.

"I am more fragile than I seem milord…." she spoke slowly.

"Please Maven, call me by name. And yes you are fragile, but do not try to hide your strength from me Maven I can sense the fighter in you."

"Why did you bring me out here tonight?" again her voice was soft. He strained to hear her before thinking on her words to give his answer. He hoped he was making the right decision and could not recall in honest the last time in over a hundred years to have felt so uncertain.

"To ask that you accompany me on my journey home to Mirkwood Forest as my most honored guest. I long to be out of this city and it would please me, nay. It would warm my heart if you were to accompany me". no sooner than he spoke did he feel as though he hadn't spoken the entire truth. He wanted her to go with him because he was falling in love with her, and couldn't fathom leaving her behind. That was the truth. And yet it wasn't what he'd said and now he felt the linger of doubt in his mind.

Leave the city and go away with him…..she had only just come to know him. He had also just kissed her, a sign from any man that he viewed her as much more than any guest. She began to twirl her fingers through her dark lochs trying to gauge the situation. Going away with him was one thing, but what of his kiss. Would there be more just like it, or something more. And the more she thought about it the more she came to the conclusion that he knew so very little about her. So very little, the kind of life he desired with her at his side was simply not possible. She was too far damaged and she knew it. Though his touch felt good, reassuring, strong and confident she knew that she did not still feel that way about herself whole heartedly. She would cause him grief, and then shame when he found out how deep her past and troubles lay. No man would want her, was what Gorn had told her and she had never realized how much his words had clung to her till now.

Her silence worried him but he was content to stand there and wait until she had reached some kind of answer either good or bad. His eyes scanning her closely she was trembling and not from the cool night air, but from nerves. Uncertainty was awash all throughout her being as she twisted her hair like a child.

Over and over in her head she was trying to come up with a reason not to, it was just to over whelming. To farfetched that a prince of some royal kingdom had asked her to go away with him. She began to realize that if she had been just an ordinary woman human or elf alike that the offer would have been readily excepted. With thoughts of love and promise abundant everywhere, but she had been a woman of the cloth. Such thoughts of love, desire and the flesh impossible. But that wasn't the case now, and she knew it. She no longer wore the robes of a priestess, and now she was such a woman. Simple and ordinary in a city full strangers, no different save for her dark skin. He had made her feel safe, in fact whenever she was near him there was a calm. A feeling of safety, of wanted compassion and understanding.

"And what of your people Legolas, what will they say when they see you arrive with a woman such as myself. I can no more stand the stares and ridicule that I have endured in this city….if the same be written in their eyes…" she began. He smiled at the sound of her calling him by his name. Glad to hear that she had dropped the formalities she had so taken while trying to keep him at length. Perhaps she would go with him, it was a hope.

"I can assure you that the hospitality of the elves is vastly different from that of men. My people would welcome all those who are elf friends. You would be well received, I can assure you". and he believed what he said, save for only one elf, and that was his father. Whom he would have to convince otherwise, for this was sure to drive a wedge further between them. But he wasn't willing to loose Maven, his father would simply have to learn and except.

"Very well then….." she whispered nervously, "I shall go". Instantly he beamed and his pale features seemed to glow in waning light of the stars above. But before he could allow himself to rejoice he could sense that there was more she was willing to say. "I shall go with you but you must promise me, you must that you will not abandon me. That I will be safe…." she said. He nodded and then made his way to her carefully pulling her into an embrace that held the promise no words could express. "You have my word Maven, safe is where you will be."

"And there is she stated while her head rested on his chest just above his beating heart. He cared not for any conditions as long as she agreed to go with him, there was nothing that he would refuse her if she was by his side. He rested his chin on the crown of her head and nodded in silent approval that she proceed with her final condition. "My past stays hidden, you must never ask of it. Promise me, please that you will never ask or seek it out". then she began to tremble. Legolas grew still, this condition she asked was not right. How could he forget or push aside the degree to which he found her. Or ignore the fact that she had been so tormented in her past and let it go? He wanted to protest, above all else he wanted to. For he loved her and was so willing to share all his life and past with her, that she was not willing to open up to him meant that there would always be secrets. And the full life he wanted with her would always be clouded in shadows.

But her fear was what something that he could not bare, and more. The fear that he might loose her and never again lay eyes upon her. That holding her as he had so longed to do in this fashion would never occur again. And that she would look at him in days gone by with any manor of contempt, was not appealing to him. Against his better judgment and all sense of acquired wisdom he nodded softly, "Very well then Maven. It is with heavy heart that I promise, but promise all the same. Your past, shall remain hidden".

The tiniest flicker of a smile came to her then after hearing him speak. And she clung to him tightly still to afraid to look him in the eyes. Her own condition now pulling at her soul, that forever more she would carry around the weight of the war, of Gorn and his attack to her grave. But here was a chance at love, and she wasn't about to let it slip away now that she was offered.

In the next few days Maven walked with lighter steps and was often seen smiling far more than she ever had been before. For hours at a time she would walk in the kings garden, or stand on the great veranda of the white tree and take pleasure from its beauty. The sound of singing could be heard while in her presence and her soul, so long fractured had started to feel whole and complete. She couldn't recall ever having felt this way before, so happy and without care. Wanting all of the world to know of the good feelings that seemed to over flow from her like a river. She was happy now, about to embark on a journey into love and it warmed her.

One afternoon she found herself at the stables having just groomed one of the horses of Rohan called Snowmane. Eowyn had revealed long ago that the horse belonged to her uncle Theoden. And she had become fascinated with the horse as well as many others who had served in war, she viewed them much like herself. Survivors. And to some degree forgotten, she vowed to honor them in their half empty stalls by singing to them and talking with them. It was after leaving Snowmanes stall that she found that she was not alone, for there standing by the entrance stood Lord Eomer. His arms folded, his tall frame leaned against the archway. She recalled then that she hadn't seen the horse lord since the night they had danced together some time ago. And she was always confused while in his presence for she had never really know wither to be afraid of him or just the opposite. For some reason she could barely understand she knew that he was a good man that he simply had a hard exterior to those he wasn't sure he could trust. But it was only her best guess at most. Deciding that she was tired of his stare she hut the door to Snownames' stall and secured the latch locking it before dusting her hands off on her crème colored dress. With a slight sigh of the unknown she approached him and tried to be as kind and respectful as she possibly could.

"How fare you today milord?" she asked with a respectful bow. Her dark brown eyes downcast from him only briefly until she looked up into his blue ones. He was looking at her rather strangely, almost a look of disappointment.

"I hear that you are leaving the great city to adventure with the elf lord. Do you have any idea to what kind of welcome you will receive there? Do you know what you are doing?"

Maven was to shocked to respond to him, what on earth had gotten into him to ask such a personal question. It was none of his concern what she did with her life, he was far from anything to her. Not even a good friend.

"Milord….."

But she was cut off as he continued," Think well on what you are doing. Have I not warned you that elves play in the lives of men. Do you think that you will be anything more than some kind of exotic novelty. To be shown around like some beautiful bird on his shoulder, and then when he tires of you or age comes to call that he will not discard you all the same!"

The tone is his voice spoke volumes and yet she was still to spellbound to really give him a piece of her mind as she had desired. Some how his words did bring back a reality she was trying so desperately to deny, that she was making the wrong choice. That no matter what Legolas' promise that she would still be looked down upon, ridiculed and shamed.

And so she merely stared at him on the verge of tears, but she held them back and lifted her chin. Finding her voice she began, "Milord is mistaken……I am more than capable of making my own choices and decisions. I am…grateful for your warning. But all the same it is a warning misplaced. Good day milord". she said quietly and began to walk away. Eomer cursed himself, he had not meant to be so damn brazen. He raced after her and caused her to jump in alarm as he stood before her blocking her path. Maven could feel the weight of the world on her shoulder as he stood there, he was far more encompassing than Legolas in size and demeanor. She looked up at him with trembling eyes unsure what he might attempt to do to her in broad day light.

But his next actions could never have been more sincere or caring, he bowed gently to her and then reached for her left hand, turning it over in his own before bringing it to his lips in a soft caress. Then he released her hand and began to speak, "In the past I have caused you fear while in my presence. I would ask your forgiveness. You are indeed a woman and no man can tell you of your fate, this I know. In your decision I pray that you are making the right choice. But I must warn you again that the elves are far different from men, their discomfort among those different expressed in a different manor. Know this…..and know that should you ever need me I am your servant". Maven simply stared at him in disbelief, this couldn't be happening….

Then he reached inside his dark brown tunic and reached again for her hand, placing within it what looked like a wooden whistle. She stared at it in shock trying to understand what he was giving her, "What is it?" she asked finding her voice again. All her anger at him seemed to but melt away now that he was showing her a more compassionate side. A side that told her in her heart that this man, who could be so cold and imposing had found a place for her in his heart. She tried not to think on it.

"It is a whistle to summon Galena, my eagle. If you should ever need me, use this whistle and Galena will come for you." he said. Again she was to stunned to ask anything more. Her brown eyes could only stare at him as he backed away from her and said nothing more. She watched him leave the courtyard and make his way up the marble staircase back into the city. Glancing down at the whistle she marveled at how simple and yet how beautiful it was before closing her hands over it and shutting her eyes.

A shadow watched the exchange nearby , a smile coming to rest upon the figures face.

TBC…..

Thanks for the reviews J

More soon.


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note

Song of the Virgin

I know it has been a VERY long time since I had an update on this fic, I'm sorry I have been very busy with life in general. When I began this fic I was very happy and in a beautiful relationship. And felt like I could write a romance, well that's all popped and fizzled and now I'm not sure I have what it takes to continue to write such a romance. Though in the story the romance has only just started happening. Long story short I am currently writing bits and pieces to conclude this story for those of you out there that are still interested. Thanks for all the great reviews and I look forwarded to concluding it for all of you who have taken the time to read by labor of love.

Thanks so much,

Isis Black


	18. Chapter 18

Don't own this...

Edge of a New World

Time passed for Maven as time has a way of doing. With the journey to Mirkwood at long last she gazed upon the green kingdom that was Mirkwood. And though she found Gondor to be a place of beauty in due time, nothing could compare to the wonders and sheer magic that was the realm of the elves. The journey there was filled with singing and laughter, life and song. As she traveled with the elves she began to understand them if only slightly.

Through out the days journey she would hear many long forgotten tales over evening supper when the caravan made camp. Tales of how the world came to be, and that of all walks of life from man, dwarves and elves. As she would listen her hand would stray to the strange whistle that Eomer had given her, and as she twisted it in her hands absentmindedly admiring its beauty she could scarcely understand his prejudice.

"And what do you have there?"

Maven turned quickly to her left to find Legolas standing slightly over her, a hot bowl of soup in his hands. She gave him a quick bashful smile before dropping the whistle back into the folds of her clothing, for some reason not wanting him to see.

"It is nothing" She quickly replied as she shifted around to meet his gaze. He appeared to be in good spirits. And now that they were at last in the realm of Mirkwood his entire out look on a great many things changed. For she could not help but notice that while he dwelled in Gondor he was always quiet. But now there was a different side of him that had come to the light. He was more care free and talkative, always asking her questions and would spend long moments gazing at her. At first his new change in overall attitude worried her.

For she was so accustomed to his silent eyes that she hardly understand this change. But as she looked around them and heard the bard singing a tale of love and merriment she understood it. He was at last among his own people again, the threat to the world a memory. There was reason to celebrate.

Careful he leaned down and handed her the bowl of rich soup to which she accepted, holding it in her lap patiently waiting for it to cool. Again he smiled at her before squatting next to her watching her every move.

It always made her nervous when he did this though she knew he meant her no harm. "How are you this evening Maven?" He asked smoothly as he watched her bring the spoon to her lips, as she blew away the steam in an attempt to cool it. "I am well, are we nearly there. To the heart of your lands?"

"Yes we are, by morning we shall at last arrive at the palace gates. There will be a warm welcome by the people. Great cheer now that the war has ended". He said. Maven nodded and proceeded to eat her soup. It was a vegetable mix, spiced just to perfection. She marveled at how different food was prepared from one people to the next. Her own kin prepared mostly meats and grains, while in Gondor it was practically all meat. But the Elves seemed to prefer vegetables. With an occasional meat product though very very rare.

"The soup is delicious". She said absently, to break the silence that had been building. Legolas sat forward and gave a nod before starring off into the distance. His eyes came to rest upon his father's tent. It had been days since he had last talked to him and as the journey was now coming to an end he wondered what it would escalate to within the city. His father still deeply opposed his decision to bring along an outsider, a human woman into their realm.

"Won't you join me?" She asked as she stared down at her bowl, thinking herself slightly rude for eating while he simply sat and watched. He shook his head gently and a serious look crossed his pale immortal face.

"Maven do you regret leaving Gondor?"

She was dumbstruck, just where had that question come from. She swallowed down her soup quickly and placed the spoon on a handkerchief, trying to decide how to answer that question. Her breathing increased as she played events over in her head, her arrival into Gondor...the friends she had made. The tears shed, and then this new light that was happening between them. Whatever it was it gave her strength, his belief in her.

"At first I was, yes. And some part of me yet is still afraid...I will not lie to you". Came her honest reply as she quickly looked up at him, and then turned away. Ever bashful and still trying to grow accustomed to his gaze.

"Thank you I am very glad that you have journeyed here with me to my home. I want to show you the wonders of my realm, and my people...I want to keep you safe". He said and then brought his hand out to cusp the bottom of her chin lifting it meet his gaze. Maven felt a chill shoot through her when his gentle fingers touched her flesh, and always her heart was torn. The strange rush of fight or flight was replaced by another more chilling emotion that made her heart thud harder and her blood to warm. His touch...always caused her to forget her past and every evil ever done to her. Just what was this power he held over her and was it for good...

He was only a breath a way as he slowly closed the gap between them. A strange panic welled within Maven at the thought; she had kissed him before but why was it that now she felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Was it his words...just what was it?

"Why milord?" She quickly asked as his face nearly brushed hers. He halted in his advance and rubbed his thumb carefully across the bottom of her full lips. He sighed before answering and she could see that he was indeed very serious just now in every move and breath he took.

"My soul is drawn to you Maven, it has been since the first time I saw you," he began and Maven felt her heart skip a beat beneath her chest, but she was transfixed upon him now. She dropped her gaze only a moment recalling just where it was he had first seen her, on the war torn fields of the Pelennor.

"But...," she began only to silenced by his soothing hiss as he gently caressed her smooth features along her face. She shut her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his attentions. How was it possible for a being to be this gentle, this careful with a soul so long abandoned. She could not believe how she had met such a creature as the Prince of Mirkwood.

"Do you not know...can you not sense how I feel?" He asked in a husked whisper. She couldn't look at him, there were just to many emotions. Emotions she had never before felt all swelling and ebbing like the great tides of the sea. Her own heart had long ago told her what these feelings were, what it all meant. But her mind wouldn't allow it; this constant tug was slowly driving her mad. This war within herself. And yet she knew how he felt, what he was alluding to. That which he would eventually say that would cause her heart to tumble over and she would be powerless to stop it. And perhaps the question that really arose to the forefront of her mind was...

"I have never before felt anything like this before milord, I...am..."

But the rest of the words died upon her lips as he gently brought his to hers in a sweet kiss that stilled all other thoughts both past and present from her mind. It was unlike his other kiss, as he pulled her closer toward him into the cradle of his strong arms flush with his chest.

King Thranduil watched with strong distaste as his only son and heir kissed his human beloved for all to see. Shamed that his son, all that was important to him in this world would take such a creature into his heart. Would shame what was left of their noble house, line and family for such a frail creature. Who would become a burden upon his son for all time. For elves loved fiercely this was common knowledge. At first he tried to deny it within himself that his one and only son had so fallen for a mortal girl...but now it was fact. As he cursed under his breath and pulled back the flap of his door he proceeded toward a small wooden desk and poured himself a goblet of red wine.

With a sigh he savored the taste before sitting before the small hearth fire that had been prepared for him by a servant. The sound of a bell chime caught on the wind, and the flap of his tent opened very slightly as his Nathanyal, a very wiry young man asked permission to enter.

"What is it Nathanyal?" He asked as he took another deep sip of wine. "Forgive me milord King, but you have requested a meeting with Lord Sylvain at this hour. He is here now milord..."

"Yes very well, please show him in..."

The young man gave a deep bow and the curtain opened a bit further to reveal a very tall dark haired elf with deep green eyes, long graceful black hair and a deep green riding tunic. He pressed on past the servant boy and watched as the boy exited, shutting the flap of the door behind him. It was then that he felt it proper to speak.

"You have summoned me my King?" He said with great respect as he bowed and awaited the address of the King. Thranduil studied the younger elf a moment before giving him leave to rise. "Yes I have, please sit with me".

"Of course my King".

The younger elf moved to sit just across from the monarch and watched as his King prepared two goblets filled with a red wine. Each man took his fill and a moment of silence stretched on before the King spoke; it appeared that he had allot on his mind.

"What have you learned Sylvain?" Asked the King as his dark blue eyes starred down into the crackling fire. Sylvain smiled darkly before taking quick sip from his goblet, truly the wine was delicious. "I know only that she is a Priestess, from the far away realm of the Harad. And that she traveled with a large army who was in service to the dark lord and she was to assist them with the power of her voice, with others like herself."

"I see...interesting. What became of her comrades...their purpose?" Asked the King.

"They were all slain milord, it would seem. Some time after that she was discovered on the battlefield before the thresh hold of Gondor, found none other than by your son. From there she was taken into the city, her wounds addressed and was cared for ever since".

"My son would bring some battered woman in from the fields as though she were a lost puppy! The shame!"

Sylvain sat back a moment and watched as the King poured himself another goblet of wine, his knuckles white with rage and anger. As he could not pull the image of his son and that mortal woman locked in an embrace from his withered mind.

"What more can you tell me...Have you watched her closely?"

"I have milord as you have asked. Not long before we departed for Mirkwood I caught a glimpse of her alone near the stables, but she was not completely alone. With her was the future King of the Rohan...Eomer I believe he is called. There the two of them seemed to have some kind of argument. But it was the horse lord who seemed the most distressed. He warned her of our people and our ways. Then he gave her a token or a memento to remember him by..."

"And what was that? Did you see?" Demanded the king. Sylvain bowed quickly in a show of humility as he sensed the Kings rage boil to the very edge of reason. "I did sire it was a whistle of some sort...small and precious. Carved by men. Nothing profound about it at all."

"A whistle? Hmmm...Perhaps it is more profound than you think. Now that I recall there has been something rather odd brewing between the future King of Gondor and this human woman my son has become so _enamored_ with. This connection could be the key I have sought, to disrupt this union before it takes root".

"Yes milord". Replied Sylvain with a curt nod, "what other orders do you wish of me sire I am at your disposal..."

The King reflected deep in his thoughts a moment before deciding upon the best course of action. "Do as you have these past days and watch from the shadows, keep yourself well hidden and note every detail. I do not trust this woman from the Harad nor my son while alone with her. I pray that the greatest of my fears has yet to occur...report to me again two days hence from now. That is all Sylvain".

"Yes sire". Muttered Slyvain as he put down his now empty goblet and made his way from the tent. "When next you see my son, advise him that his father desires a small chat with him. Now go..."

"As you wish sire..." replied the dark haired elf as he left the tent. Thranduil sat back in his chair and swirled the contents of his goblet with anticipation and dread.

TBC...

I think I finally have inspiration with this story again. Please give your heart felt feed back I would greatly appreciate it, thank you.


	19. Chapter 19

Don't own this

Chapter 19

Maven awoke in the hollows of a cave the screams of her countrymen bouncing off the hard stone all around her. She was alone somehow, she knew. There was only the sound of explosions and the strong scent of flesh burning and she struggled to her bare feet. The ground was cold and unwelcoming as she moved through the dark. Her robes were town and scattered and she could scarcely see the remains of them aligning the tiny pockets of light that had somehow filtered in. A cool breeze caught on her dark hair and the pungent odor of orcs drifted on the wind.

A panic filled her as she tried to run blindly in the near dark. More screams echoed in the distance and confused her with every step. She gathered her torn robes in hand and moved toward the very back of the cave, that human instinct telling her to run, hide seek safety in the folds of the dark.

A thunderous explosion shook the very ground and she was thrown down the hard earth in its wake. The cold feel of dirt and ash, water and mud filled her hands as she braced for the impact. For a moment she was frozen to the spot as waves of more arsenal struck the surrounding cave. Placing her hands over her head she crawled into a ball, like a child and prayed. It was the only thing she could fathom, it was the sole reason why she was here she knew.

Her purpose had been to sing, to pray to offer hope of victory where there was only the cry of battle and the cutting of flesh. Her temple had been foolish, her countrymen tricked into a false cause. Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing. She remained still, as still as the earth below her, desperately trying to control her erratic breathing. And steadily the sound etched closer, each step more resounding than the last. Until she heard the voice….one she had somehow known would find her again….

"Hello my pet………" came the deep hiss from the Uruk known as Gorn. Maven felt her skin grow with perspiration, her body wracked with fear. And soon she knew nothing more as he crouched down above her and shot out a knarled hand at her hair. He gave a violent tug before pulling her at the back of her neck up towards him. His face so close she could smell his putrid breath. He smiled and licked the hollow of her throat.

"You can never run from me my pretty………." he sneered as he relished in her cries before releasing her only to grab at her breast. Maven turned her head to stare off into the darkness of the cave and screamed………..

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Maven sat up in bed her hands placed carefully over her heart as she allowed her heavy breathing to slowly subside. This was the third dream…….nightmare she had experienced since having come to Mirkwood some four weeks ago. Her dark eyes scanned the expanse of her room and she was greeted with the soft glow of the moonlight as it drifted in from her balcony.

The dying embers in her fireplace reminded her that she was indeed 'safe'. She was in her own room in her own bed. There was no cave, no Gorn….he was long since dead. She had seen to that herself. That part of her life was over she reasoned, it was a part of the past now. Her new life in Mirkwood had held much promise and she was truly happy here. She wanted for nothing and was treated with kindness, love and respect. Taking a deep sigh she steadied herself after several deep breaths was prepared to attempt sleep again when a knock came to her door.

"Yes?" she sleepily responded.

"It is I Lady, Lynn. I heard your screams down the hall and I thought I might look in on you. Having another of your nightmares are you?"

Maven sighed and sat back on her pillows embarrassed. This wasn't the first time that she had woken one of the chambermaids in the dead of night over her nightmares. The old woman Lynn was kind and always quite concerned for her long before she had had a single nightmare. "I'm fine Lynn I promise…..it was only a dream. I'm going back to sleep now". she said as she turned away from the door and began to shut her eyes. But to her surprise the door sprang open and the small form of an elderly women dressed in a dark green robe entered the room.

Lynn had been assigned to look over Maven since her arrival in Mirkwood nearly a month ago. She had taken to looking after Maven like the granddaughter she admitted to never attaining. Lynn was fairly old, despite the fact of elves never truly showing their age, with blonde hair that held hints of silver and deep blue eyes that were full of warmth as opposed to years of knowledge.

"Oh no child this makes…..oh let's see…..one ….two, no three times that you have been awakened by such a "dream". There is something greatly amiss here, and I want desperately to get to the bottom of it!" said Lynn as she made her way towards the bed, placing her hands on her hips the entire way.

Maven flopped around in bed before sitting up to face the older woman. She knew that Lynn meant well but she could never tell her about her dreams, they were all to painful and personal to ever tell another living soul. She had beaten Gorn, and he was dead. His crimes against her a forgotten memory.

Maven smiled genuinely, "Lynn….I thank you for coming to look in on me but I am fine as you can see. It was nothing, we all have bad dreams".

Lynn shook her head and squeezed her hips, pursing her mouth upwards in a pout. "Hmm, a dream huh. Yes you are right young miss and we all have them, but your dreams are nightmares that haunt you. I don't know why you feel the need to hide yourself from those who care about you, but if there is anything you want to tell me I promise in the strictest of confidences that I'll not tell a soul. What's been bothering you?"

Maven couldn't help but feel foolish, Lynn was so very kind to her. And she had on several instances come in to look after her. They would talk about dreams and the hidden meanings of them, and before long Maven was ready to sleep again. A promise was made between the two of them that Lynn was to tell no one of her late night awakenings. Lynn agreed but always with agitation.

Only tonight as she looked into Lynn's sweet blue eyes she wanted to tell her everything. To just spill out her soul to another. Deep down she knew it would help, but that old feeling never seemed to leave her. That feeling that was shame. Would it never fully allow her to lead a full life?

"Looks like you want to talk…." said Lynn as she sat down on the bed and patted Mavens leg. Maven turned away from her soothing gaze. She did very much want to tell her but opted to do what she had always done.

"Please….Lynn thank you but I am really all right now. I just…..I just want to sleep…really".

Lynn observed her for a long moment before nodding and getting up off the bed headed for the door. The old woman reached for the handle and was soon on the other side of the door pulling the knob as she moved, "Good night miss". she said and was gone. Maven released a breath she didn't know she was holding and turned back into her cool sheets. Worry pushing its way through her mind until she found sleep again.

The very next afternoon Maven sat alone in the great library of Mirkwood. She had spent much of her time alone there when given the opportunity. Legolas had advised her that she had full reign of the castle keep including its vast library. She had been thrilled to be given the opportunity to do so.

She paused in reading a forgotten poem thinking of him. He had been away from Mirkwood for a few days seeing to one of his fathers many errands. But he was due back to the castle now very soon. A solitary person by nature she had immersed herself in books and reading in an attempt to pass the time. Since her arrival in Mirkwood she spent nearly every waking moment with him. His kindness and devotion to her grew more and more. And Maven understood now the true depths of his feelings…..feelings she too felt within her own heart.

With a deep breath she looked up towards the large window that was filled with sunlight. She could hardly imagine her life without him now, for he had become so much more than a friend. He was the man she loved. A small giggle escaped her as she allowed those feelings to fully sink in. She was in love. A former priestess, a woman who was born into the service of her people and temple……in love. A new road was now open to her that had previously been strictly forbidden. With the war over she gauged that there was nothing now that was impossible. And as she bathed in the warm sunlight and the solace of the library as she was again thankful to the gods and their new gifts.

Suddenly there was the sound of trumpets just outside the palace. Maven jumped in her chair from the startling noise before she realized what was implied by them. A wide smile spread across her youthful face as she sat up and pushed the chair away from herself, excitement welling within her. He was back after only a few short days departure he had arrived back. Gathering up her skirts she ran from the library and rounded the corner to a vast ornate hallway. It was surprisingly empty as she took off at a run down the corridor, her hopes and good cheer written clearly on her face for all to see.

There were a series of steps that led down to a dramatic spiral stair case, and she pulled her skirts closer towards herself to ensure she would not trip. The sound of the trumpets flared again and the sound of a large group of people came to accompany it. Taking deep breaths she rounded the stair case and came at last to its bottom. Before her stood a vast hall, that was the hall of the King, with a large open area on the far left hand side of the room. It lead down to a small courtyard where travelers would congregate and depart and where she had last seen her beloved.

The room had begun to fill with elves, most of them were high nobles and a few were servants and curious on lookers. Many of them exchanged curious glances in her direction and would talk amongst themselves. Breathing heavily to catch her breath, Maven moved among them careful to show respect at all times.

Maven looked about them nervously as she scanned the vast room searching for her beloved. She could feel her breathing build as the anticipation filled every inch of her soul. It was though she were starved, starved for air and a new wind was just beyond her reach. A warm smile filled her youthful face as she moved through the growing crowd.

"You search for him among a sea strangers milady?" came a deep melodic voice from just behind her. Maven's breath caught as she at once recognized the sound of that voice. A hand over her heart she turned and stood face to face with King Thranduil. Nervously she gathered her skirts and bowed deeply, hoping to please him. She had so longed to gain his respect.

"Milord…" she began.

Thranduil shook his head and urged on lookers to move away so that he might have some manner of privacy. He smiled briefly as he looked down at her. A sigh escaped his lips, for she was fair and beautiful even for a mortal. And yet again he questioned his son, to have taken such a creature into his heart. She was loyal, this he knew-could sense. But all the same she was human and flawed. Not worthy to have his only son.

"You may rise my child…..I am not your King. Though your respect is to be admired".

"Milord….I must thank you for your kindness and your hospitality. I am truly very humbled to be here, among your people. I owe you respect.."

Thranduil laughed then as he watched her small frame flinch in response. He reached out and gently took hold of her shoulders urging her to stand fully. Shaking his head. "You owe me nothing my dear. I am just an old man who sits upon a throne. I have seen much in this world….and you so very little. And my son…yes….well" and he paused for a moment as he looked about the hall.

"My son has seen what evils this world can truly bring as the horrors of war still plagues his mind. But you…dear Maven have brought him something that I don't believe I have ever seen in him."

Maven stood face to face with the King as their eyes locked intensly. Soft brown eyes wavered under the intense gaze of ones that had witnessed an eternity. She took a deep breath as she calmed herself. For deep down she knew that she would never be able to fully withstand the heat behind the kings stare. He was not fond of her and she knew it with all certainty. But there was a level of respect that simply had to be maintained on both their parts.

"Come," he said after a moment as turned and extended his arm towards her," come with me and stand at my side. I do believe my son would rejoice in seeing you there. Waiting for him. Would he not?"

Maven released a deep breath she hadn't known she was holding before she nodded in response. Words escaped her now as the weight of the court bared down upon her. Every one stood looking at them and what had transpired. Together they moved across the great hall floor headed toward the throne. The throne sat alone on a small rise, to look down upon the hall. It was beautifully carved from the deepest mahogany and had scenes of long lost wars, flowers, forestry and elven ancestors carved gracefully into every available inch.

Thranduil carefully walked up the short distance of stairs gently guiding Maven along as a hush fell upon the packed hall and a small path appeared down its center. The sound of horses filled the air followed by a cheer. Thranduil sat down with much the air of nobility as he motioned for Maven to stand at his side. Again she bowed to him and accepted his offer. Her brown eyes scanned out across the hall when at last she saw him.

Legolas swept into the hall as the crowd welcomed their prince with cheer and adoration. His bright eyes scanned over them as he moved down the path made for him, a smile spread across his ageless face. Eyes forward he could think of naught but one person, and he was pleased to see her at his fathers side. It was a good sign, perhaps now his father had accepted her. And there would be no more awkward moments for any of them.

Before long he had made his way to the end of the hall and was now standing at his fathers feet at the bottom of the stairs. Thranduil beamed brightly as he stared down at his son. He was so very proud of his heir, he'd never failed him as a son nor as his own representative when needed. For now he would reward him with the human girl at his side and if just for a night he could push aside the fact of her presence. If only to humor his son with whom he'd held so much faith in.

Legolas exchanged a quick glance with Maven that spoke of everything he could not openly say aloud given the situation, and so he bowed before turning his attentions to his father. Slowly lowering himself to one knee, he placed his right arm above his heart and looked downward with the utmost respect.

"Father.."

Thranduil pushed away from the high backed throne chair and looked truly pleased at the display taking place before him. Thranduil laughed light heartedly, "Rise my son you have done well. The kingdom rejoices in your triumphant return, and this old man is ever more proud of you. Stand! And be received by this court!"

Legolas nodded in kind and stood up as a roar of applause and cheer again rang out from the crowd. "Yes, you have done well my son……very well…." said Thranduil as Legolas walked up the small stair case and the two embraced. When Thranduil pulled away he turned toward his left to catch a glimpse of young Maven glowing in the happiness of the moment, her small hands fidgeting with the folds of her skirt.

Legolas turned to look at her and then back to his father in almost apologetically before he moved toward her. He noticed how her soft brown eyes grew in excitement and a soft flush came to her dark skin. The very sight of it all made his own heart feel as though it would burst, he cared so much for this woman. This woman whom he could never have imagined meeting in all his long life. He would make her happy for as long as the Valar would allow.

Her delicate smile wavered now that he stood so close, she didn't know what to do. She'd so longed to embrace him, and burned for his kisses and his touch. But now simply was not the time for such a thing. Nervously she bowed and stood there, her voice seemed to have escaped her as her mouth moved and no sound escaped.

Legolas giggled at how adorable her actions were. "What's this? Have I made you so spell bound that you've lost your voice my love?" Maven frowned slightly but found the humor in his voice and before she knew it she had launched herself at him, and he caught her and welcomed the feel of her so close as he embraced her, winding his hands through her long black hair. A great cheer erupted from the crowd as well as applause from such a truly open display of love. Thranduil slowly turned to look at the sight and his breathing skipped a beat when he saw how passionate the embrace was. He cleared his throat almost instantly and the two parted however reluctantly.

"There is cause for celebration my son, but do not forget _who_ you are. A feast has been gathered in your honor…..come.." said Thranduil in a very gruff voice before he walked down the stairs and into the crowd of well wishers. Legolas cracked a half smile at his fathers comment only to return his attentions to Maven.

"I have no desire to attend any glamorous functions this night, I only wish to spend my evening with you". he said as he ran the back of his hand along the delicate curve of Mavens neck. Instantly Maven felt her stomach drop and heart to soar at something in the way he'd said that. He couldn't have meant anything by it….not like….

She laughed out of nervousness, "My lord….your kingdom rejoices in your return! Wont you humor your people and your father by attending a celebration meant just for you?"

He turned his head slightly as though wounded, "You do not wish to spend your evening with me?" he asked seriously. Maven could scarcely look at him, he looked so damn serious and so hurt. Her heart began to flutter wildly in her chest as she meet his eyes and knew that he was awaiting her response. "That's not what I meant….at all…I..I am very happy that you have returned. Since the day you left I have wanted nothing but your safe return to be with me in the splendor of your kingdom".

He smiled and took hold of her left hand as he guided the two of them away from the room and the noise of the crowd, to a small veranda located just behind the throne. There was a stone railing and a water fountain there that was surrounded by peacocks. Maven gasped in awe at the beauty of the scene and how truly marvelous Mirkwood was on an almost daily basis. They stood beside the stone railing both looking out over the small garden and the fountain, their hands still clasped.

Maven could feel her heart about to explode from cheer nervousness. And her mind was reeling in confusion, shed never felt this nervous around him. She couldn't understand why now of all times she'd felt so vulnerable. It was as though they were both hurtling toward something new and there was no time to stop it. Legolas gently tugged at her hand and pulled her into a delicate embrace, placing his chin atop the crown of her head. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"I could think of little else while I was away on my fathers affairs. Many nights I lay awake with your face ever present on my mind. At times it was though I could reach out and touch you just as I am doing now".

Maven made a slight cooing sound as she imagined him doing just that. She too had done so at night as her dark eyes scanned out into the corners of her room in wonder. Nodding her understanding she held him tighter and heard the silent thunder of his heart.

"Can you blame me for wanting to spend my first night back with you?" he asked as he caressed her back.

"No milord". she all but whispered.

He smiled briefly before pulling away only to bring her face closer towards him and closed the distance between them with a kiss.

That night there was a grand celebration in the great hall complete with wine, food, singing and a festive dance. The entire kingdom seemed to arrive and filled every available inch of the hall until the very ground itself grumbled in complaint. The sweet sound of the music carried couples young and old to the floor and many glasses of the finest elvish wines moved along with the beat.

Thranduil sat alone silently observing the dancing and merriment, his old blue eyes never resting. Searching for two lone figures that seemed lost to him among the fray. But the longer he observed the more disappointed he became. His son had seemed to vanish sometime ago along with his 'beloved'. He made a fist in anger and grabbed a goblet of wine that had been poured for him so many moments ago. Bringing the cup to his aged lips he took a deep drink and slammed the cup down hard beside him. He sat back further in his chair and reclined, placing a clenched fist underneath his chin.

A servant boy appeared beside him and bowed quickly before speaking, "Milord, Lord Sylvain has requested your presence in the Gardens. He says it is of the utmost importance.."

Thranduil looked down at the young boy in inquiry, "Is that so? Did he impart to you the nature of such a request?"

The boy shook his head 'no' quickly and replied eagerly, "No sir he did not, only that I bring his request to your most immediate attention".

Thranduil smiled, his spies were working well for him it was pleasing. He nodded his approval and arose to his feet so very interested on what his trusted spy had to say.

Lord Sylvain stood at the edge of the gardens with naught but the gentle call of the night and a near by water fountain to break the stillness. A wry smile spread across his lips as he again ran the information over in his mind. It was heavy news, not for the faint of heart and certainly not news a King wished to hear as involved his son. And yet it was by the Kings order that he seek out the truth at no matter what the cost. It was to this he held true and was now prepared to impart all that he had learned.

Thranduil appeared in the west end of the garden and made his way quickly toward one of his most trusted vassals. Sylvain bowed respectfully before meeting the eyes king. Thranduil appeared flushed as he caught his breath and cocked his head ever so slightly in mild query.

"Good Evening my King". said Sylvain with yet another sweeping bow. Thranduil smiled wickedly before waving his right hand quickly in a display of lost patience. "I hear that you have news for me? This had better not be another wild goose chase…"

Sylvain was quick to reply, "Oh no milord this time I have fully gathered all the information you have requested. No more loose bits. I have it all now…..do you wish to sit down?"

Thranduil smirked, "Get on with it. What have you learned?"

Sylvain nodded and with a sigh that spoke of the gravest of news he began. "Very well milord. She was a priestess, a priestess from the southern lands of the Harad. She has lived out her entire life in a temple, forbidden to do much of anything. Only surrounded by others like herself. When the call to war came the leaders of her people fell for Saurons delusions of victory and grandeur and took up the cause to fight…"

"Yes yes this is all very common knowledge! Where is the truth you seem to promise?"

Slyvain shrank away before continuing, "Very soon milord. I do feel you should know everything. War came to the outskirts of the Harad and her people marched to its drum. Even those of the cloth, the priestesses of song. That is what she is sire, one of those from legend that lift their voices to sing and give incredible power to their warrior men. That was her task during the war".

"I see…." said Thranduil after a moment. "Go on".

Sylvain nodded quickly, "It was under these circumstances that she was found on the fields. Just before the men of the Harad attacked the gates of Gondor they were attacked by roguish Orcs and the Uruks. Her men were slaughtered in the night, and all those with whom she personally traveled. But her story takes a turn for the worst here sire…."

"At last…the truth of it." replied Thranduil.

Sylvains youthful face grew pale as he looked around them for signs that someone else might be there, listening in the dark shadows. This was truly a horror he prayed no one else would ever endure. He had found her past intriguing up until this one aspect. It disgusted him and he wasn't sure what kind of reaction it might draw out in his king. With a deep breath he went on, eager to rid it from his mind alone. He could only imagine what horror filled dreams she must have endured and still endured bearing the weight of it herself.

"Milord after her men were attacked she was but the lone survivor. She was captured and held by the leader of the Uruks…..taken to the confines of his lair and….ravaged sire".

Thranduil gasped and stepped away from his servant out of clear revulsion. How horribly despicable, and how loathsome. And yet his son was now alone with this woman who had been so……so "touched" by the enemy. By those fouler than men with the blackest of hearts! She was beyond unworthy of his only son.

"She was found some time later on the fields of course. An arrow in her back and she had just slain an Uruk…"

Thranduil was beside himself with foul temperament, he could hear no more. He had surely suspected that she was Harad. Her dark features were adequate and telling enough. Her history as that of a priestess was fascinating if only in passing but her abuses at the hands of the enemy. The Uruks! Foul beyond words. And while it was true that the attack she sustained at their hands was out of her control and not her fault, the idea. The idea that it had occurred filled him with disgust. And he was almost certain that his son knew nothing about it. It was a fact that he would soon rectify in the near future.

TBC…..

Yeah I know……LOOOOONG time no post.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Don't own this….

That night there was a thunderstorm and the kingdom of Mirkwood seemed to pull back in amongst itself as its citizens took much needed shelter. The grand celebration of its princes happy return brought to a halt as the festivities were dimmed by the damp rain and crackling sound of thunder.

The king had reluctantly called for a close to the evening's affair with trepidation and the barest hint of relief. He had managed to locate his son only to loose him to the crowd of well wishers as the great hall emptied of people. It was just as well, for there would be time in the morrow to spill the ill news of that which he'd just learned. There was the slightest tinge of worry at the forefront of his mind. Such news could be damming to all parties and none more so than the young woman Maven.

However he had already decided that as King it was well within his right to see to the safety of his house, his line and family. The young human woman was keeping secrets, and he could not be concerned with her feelings in total. He was a father and only seeing to the safety of his only son and heir. The kind of secrets the young maiden was keeping was indeed quite harmful, if word should spread of her past. What embarrassment could be done to him and his own reputation he could not fathom. Let alone his only son. The situation had to be handled the right way, and as he watched his son disappear into the night for the evening, he felt anew that he was doing the right thing.

Maven stood alone beside a great pillar in the west hall as she waited for Legolas. He had been stopped by many of his people who wished to express their joy at his return. Only minutes ago the two had been alone together enjoying one another's company when the first clap of thunder resounded across the sky, moments later the patter of rain and soon after the great hall began to scatter. It's people surrendering themselves for the want of dry shelter and a cooler environment deeper within the palace walls. And so she waited patiently for him as he made brief yet polite chatter all the while trying to pull himself away from the duties of the court if only for a night. She could scarcely make him out amongst the crowd as she stood atop the tips of her toes to get a good look trying to gage when he would finally break free. She was rewarded sometime after when she saw the distinct tell tale symbol of the crown, followed by blond hair and silver tunic that was worn by none other.

Releasing a deep breath she gave a sigh in relief at the sight of him and at his majesty, still reeling in the back of her mind that one such as him had sought her out as a friend and so much more. Pulling away from the last vestiges of the crowd he spotted her and moved with all the speed towards her. She beamed a smile at him as he came closer.

"Ahh to be away at last, thank the Valar for the rains this night..." he said as he stood face to face with his beloved. Maven smiled up at him and nodded in agreement. "Indeed, but you should be happy to receive such a warm welcome back amongst your people. To know that you are loved and appreciated is a great thing". She said before realizing just how true to her own life those words were.

It was a statement not lost on her beloved as he moved toward her taking her hand in his and leading them both away from the noise of the hall and the pattering of rain.

"Walk with me Maven...." he said after a moment. With a nervous smile she agreed and the two walked hand in hand around the palace.

"Are you finding Mirkwood a second home?" he asked as they continued to walk. She turned to look at him but his eyes were starring elsewhere off into the distance. It was unusual, and suddenly she had the strangest feeling that he was nervous. An unheard of thing, she had never seen him nervous before.

"I...I must admit that it took me a great while to grow accustomed to Gondor, and yet here. Here in your kingdom in Mirkwood I find that I am more at ease, and it is easier to find peace....." her last words trailed off as she recalled the many nights she still had nightmares. But for those troubling instances she realized that she had found peace, and a sort of balance between her old life and now. She was happy here in this new land and its people. Eomer had been wrong. Mirkwood was her home now, a rock to which she could hold onto that would never let her go. For here in the beauty of this lost wood she had found something worth living for. True love…

Legolas wound his hand with his beloveds and together the two wandered aimlessly round the palace and back again coming to a pause before the entrance to Maven's rooms; his hands lingering within her own for a moment longer and he brought them gently to his lips, shut his eyes and placed the barest of kisses. Maven could only watch him and feel her face flush with heat at his actions. She could feel her stomach fill with the fluttering of butterfly's as she breathed deep his scent and revealed in his closeness. She wanted so very much to reach out and touch his face, caress him to be closer, to share her heart with him the way he so deserved, but her feet remained still and her nerves held in check. She smiled warmly at him and stepped away reaching for the ornate curved handle to her door. He nodded his head as he stepped away paying his respects and honoring her privacy and need to rest. There would be time in the morning to see her again and perhaps they could journey away together for the afternoon, abandon the world itself just to be alone.

. His intense blue eyes stayed locked with dark brown as she read something so tragically deep within them. Elves held the power to entrance even the most dangerous of foes with their eyes and yet all she could read within his eyes now was akin to pain. She felt her own heart ache as she kept her gaze steady, and soon a blush stained her cheeks and her dark lashes fluttered and she looked away. The elf prince smiled on at her as he bowed one last time before excusing himself to his own chambers. Maven shut the door behind her and leaned the full weight of her back upon it for support. Her dark eyes stretched upward toward the heavens and she prayed for the strength, the very will to do what she felt in her heart was best. A deep held sigh escaped her and only now did she realize just how fast her tiny heart had been beating. It was like the sound of a roving army beneath her breast as she sought relaxation.

She moved toward the bed and sat down gently holding out her hands examining them steadily. "Fool…" she said to herself. "He loves you….and you love him…so why…?" She let out a pained breath as she made a hard fist, as memories clouded her vision. The nightmare would never end unless she allowed it to something whispered to her deep down. There were only so many sleepless nights that she could endure before they would come to an end. Gorn would not rule her life forever, he had been wrong, oh so wrong when he thought to tear her away from the world through his viciousness. For before her now was a new life, more than just a second chance but a real life that was filled with love and friends and laughter. There were no longer the thick convent walls of a temple and the hard days of song lifted to glorify violence, but a life lived without fear. Taking a deep breath she moved toward her closet, a large oak chest that contained her night robes. She reached for them and quickly changed as the thunder storm outside her window grew in its intensity. A flash of lightning across the sky caused her to jump suddenly and she moved toward the window ensuring that it was closed tightly. The strong scent of rain filled the air and she breathed it in deep. The rain always did seem to have a calming effect on the world and reminded mankind how fragile he was amidst it. With her mind at ease she moved toward the bed and crawled underneath the cool sheets and warm blanket and prepared for sleep, and as she shut her eyes to welcome its embrace the face of the young Mirkwood prince filled the darkness and she slept soundly.

Maven awoke with a scream as a loud clasp of thunder rang through the air in what seemed only inches from her balcony window. It had in fact been just a few miles away in the darkness of the forest but sounded so crisp as to have been right atop the palace. Sitting up straight she clutched at her blankets as she breathed in deep swells of air. It had not wholly been the lightning that had troubled her sleep, for she had just escaped another horrid nightmare. She pulled the blankets closer toward herself as she pushed away the recent memory. Always her nightmares would start with Gorn brooding over her with his men as he had first discovered her. They were vivid dreams down to the smell of the dirt on the field and the stench of wood burning and the screams of young men as they met their end at the hands of Orcs and Wargs. And in every dream she would endure his brutality only to escape that very fateful morning when she'd slain him…..as his last words rang through her like a vicious poison.

Once again she held herself alone in the dark of her room with the fires dying hopelessly within the hearth of the fireplace. A tear began its way down her left cheek and she allowed it to fall. Another crack of thunder and she pulled the blankets closer in hopes to make a shield from the outside world. Her breathing was speed up now and erratic as she felt the world closing in about her, the nightmares would never end. They would find no reprise, for every moment of happiness she found with Legolas the more her nights would be plagued with feelings of shame and guilt. It was then that she had recalled the oath she'd made him partake of, to never ask of her the events that led that muddy day on the fields of the Pelenor.

He had been reluctant to accept such a proposal as he always wanted to help her through her pain and release it so that she could find peace. Only now, in the dark of her room with nightmares still haunting her dreams did she realize just how much of a burden she'd placed upon her own heart. Turning to the window she observed the rain as it beat down and made a silent vow that after this night she would cry no more, after this night she would no longer allow the ghosts from her past to intrude. The rains would sweep them away along with the pain, the guilt and the torment of days gone by. With a determined sigh she leapt from her bed and grabbed her night robes, a long green sheet of silk that fit to her small frame like a mist and ran toward her door.

Legolas sat alone in his room beside his writing desk signing many official papers his father had insisted he review and sign. Official duties of the court and land rights, treaties and trading never interested him nor suited the kind of young elf he was. He was wild at heart and in spirit unlike many of his people; he preferred the wind in his hair and the adventure of friends and a good laugh around a fire. The trappings of the court bored him and he obeyed his father's edicts as much as was possible, never wanting to displease but also never wanting to loose himself. In the last few months since the war had ended he could only imagine what his life would be like upon returning home and returning to the everyday routines and rituals that had become the court of Mirkwood. The great dances and balls and seasonal festivals had brought a smile to his lips for quite a time. But it was always with bitter regret that he be alone in that moment. And it was the very war that brought so much pain and loss to the whole of Middle Earth that he found the other half of his soul, the young woman he felt in his heart he had waited over a thousand years for; the girl Maven. He could not begin to imagine his existence now without her in it, filing his heart with warmth at simply seeing her smile, or hearing her laugh. She'd become his world and the one thing in it he would never allow his father to deny him or take away. He sighed angrily at the very thought of such an intrusion.

A loud clasp of thunder distracted him from his paperwork as he moved away from the desk to look out over the gardens, now soaked and flooded with water. In the next few days there would be much work in cleaning up what the violence of the rains had wrought. However it was a welcomed duty, it rained so very little in the forest of Mirkwood, some say that the dark lord himself held fast over the elements, hoping to drive mankind into madness and starvation. But the dark lord was no more and the world was free now and so he welcomed the rain and the beauty that was nature. He was so lost in thought that he barely heard the knock at his door. He turned then and allowed his senses to take control and the feather light sound resounded again, this time with less enthusiasm. Concern washed over him as he feared the worst.

In the span of an eye he was across the room and at the door, his large marble white hands on the ornate door knob as he brought it open quickly and there she was, his Maven. Dressed in a long green robe, her dark hair set free trailing behind her stopping only at the heels of her ankles. She looked a fright as she stood there holding onto herself, pulling the robe tightly a crossed her chest tense and afraid. He could see the small tracks of tears that had stained her delicate cheeks and his heart ached.

"Maven?" he breathed as he looked down at her from his height it was then that he heard her gasp when her eyes took in the sight of him. In his haste he'd forgotten that he was clad only in his bottom green tunic pants that stretched clear to the floor, but was other wise expose. His bare chest caught on the firelight from the hallway and shone like pure ivory. Maven glanced up at him cautiously before taking the barest of steps backward, loosing her nerve in that instant.

"I apologize….milord for having troubled you….I….just….wanted to talk…." She said quickly as she tried to keep her eyes from meeting his, as she was clearly embarrassed. However he was to lost in her stance to be concerned with his state of near undress he reached for her face and ran the back of his hand down her tear streaked face, a dread took him that something truly horrible had happened to have caused her to run to his room in the middle of the night.

Maven shut her eyes at his touch, his large hands were so smooth and warm and deep down she felt her heart long for the feel of his hands to hold her forever more like that. The elf prince was again reminded of himself as he looked on at her, at her beauty and how truly delicate she was. She trusted him like no other; if she needed to talk he would welcome every word. "Please, excuse my undress….I thought perhaps you might be my father….won't you come in?"

Maven studied him for a moment gauging weather or not she should venture into his rooms. She'd never been in his apartment before; it had always seemed to so forbidden. It could have been a palace all its own but was intended only for one person, in comparison her room was more like a maids chambers. She agreed and walked inside and he very lightly shut the door behind her. He then moved toward a series of large oak cabinets similar to her own and quickly donned a dark green robe embroidered with the symbol of the royal family. For a long moment Maven simply stood there unsure of herself. All the courage she had had before he'd answered the door seemed to have faded away now that he was standing so close, his concern and his beauty had shaken her strength. He was always so very concerned about her, and the way his eyes shot through her like he could read her thoughts always unsettled her, and yet was comforting all in one. His raw beauty standing there at the door she never could have imagined. She struggled with keeping her mind on her task, revealing her heart to him and the horrors of her past. It was then that she began to ponder what would be written in his eyes once he knew the truth, would he ever look at her with love again?

"Please have a seat…" he said as he motioned toward the crushed velvet seats situated before the fire place, there were three large wooden couches made of the finest dark mahogany. She smiled timidly at him before taking the seat closest to the fire, again pulling her robes closer towards her frame. The fire was remarkably high and ablaze despite the dampness in the air and the raging rains outside. There was a very warm and earthy smell coming from the pit and it soothed her as she waited for him to take his own seat. He observed her for a moment before seating himself on the opposite couch, his dark blue eyes studying her. Maven felt a sharp pain rocket through her at the distance between them, why would he place himself so far away from his 'beloved'?

"I do not bite milord…" she giggled as she looked over at him nervously, her hands fidgeting with her robes. Legolas smiled at her warmly before responding. She was so very important to him and he had never quite been alone with her under such conditions, he in no way wanted to frighten her. He loved her and wanted nothing more than to share his heart and himself with her in every way possible, and yet he felt he could not be the one to begin that dance.

"I am quiet certain of that Maven, please allow me this to be respectful of you and your space, I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable here in my chambers. This is quite a step….for the both of us you must realize".

Maven nodded and she tore her eyes away from him and stared angrily into the fire. He could read the worry in her eyes and sense the wild beating of her heart as she sat so perfectly still. Whatever it was that was troubling her she was at war with and he yearned to know in that instant. He frowned as he watched her eyes hold back tears that threatened to spill forth, but she held them at bay at every turn.

"Maven please tell me what has brought you here tonight, why are you so troubled? Is there something perhaps in Mirkwood that you are unhappy with? Has someone been cruel to you?" he asked as he shifted in his seat, despite his own warnings he didn't know how much longer he could keep himself from being at her side, and so he burned inside as he watched her struggle against her inner demons alone. Maven bit back her tears as she kept her face poised and away from him, her mind ablaze with how best to explain everything. To have caused him such worry….she hated herself.

No. She hated Gorn the Uruk who had destroyed her life and forced her world to end.

"No…..no one here has been unkind, in fact the people here have been only ever warm. Even your father, "and she laughed slightly knowing how much the good king of Mirkwood held some resentment towards her, "the people here are kind. It is I who is troubled….I….alone".

He could take it no more and he moved quickly to be at her side and gently reached for her shoulders, he watched as her dark eyes grew intense under the flickering light and heard her sharp gasp of shock as he held her a breath away. He studied her face in that flickering light and watched as tears flooded down her smooth dark face only to pool at her small chin. Her lips began to tremble as she looked up at him. Her courage renewed in him that he would understand, he would love her no matter what vile things she revealed about her past. He would hear her confession and love her still, she'd been wrong to judge him so. And so she began to speak, "I come to you tonight milord to tell you….of my past….of what led to me being on that field….and that…I…"

But the elf prince was caught in the darkness of her eyes as he looked down at her, as her soul silently spoke to him and his in turn with hers this longing. A beautiful longing that was felt between the both of them since their very first embrace. He smoothed away her tears as he whispered words of love in her ears, words of the deepest love whispered in the tongue of the most ancient elvish. He heard her sigh again at the closeness of his breath upon her ear and heard her tiny heart build into a steady rhythm as he moved from her tiny round ear to the hollow of her throat, tracing a long slow and arduous line toward her full lips.

Her breathing was slow and pained as he stopped himself hovering just above her face, his eyes carefully monitoring for signs that he should stop and withdraw his hands lest he begin a dance neither can finish. He ran his thumbs across her still tear streaked face and studied her silently, "I love you Maven, I made a promise to you that I would not intrude upon the pain of your past, it doesn't matter….any of it, as I love you. You mean more to me than the waking world…"

She was trembling now as she took in his words, relief flooded through her like the rains outside. He didn't need to hear it, he never had to know nor did he care to. It was all but irrelevant as he loved her in spite of all the pain. He brought his marble like face towards her own and crossed the short distance between their lips gently pressing his there. Maven could only shut her eyes and moan in pleasure as her arms wound behind his back and she pulled him closer, her fingers playing timidly with his hair. It had only been a moment later that his burning lips where again at the hollow of her throat and she allowed her head to fall back of its own accord as she enjoyed the feel of him. He was so gentle even in his own urgency to carefully show his love as he kissed the hollow of her neck and shoulders. His every movement set her blood afire as he found his way back to her mouth and kissed her deeply again only to be more insistent and soon his tongue was at war with her own as a new sensation took her. He had never kissed her like this before, and before long she could scarcely catch her breath.

He pulled away then as he looked down at her his arms gently encircling her as he picked her up, their eyes locked upon one another as he moved toward his large four post bed. Placing her down he refused to break eye contact with her as he was now brought back into a reality he'd only now just realized. Perhaps this had gone far enough, maybe she was not ready for such a change in their relationship, maybe he was moving to fast. He climbed into the bed beside her and began stroking her face with care and worry as he watched her dark eyes question.

"Why did you stop…." She breathed out as she enjoyed each stroke of his hands upon her face. He had no real idea what that very simple gesture did to her nerves, set them on fire. "Maven…if I take you to my bed, our relationship will change. We will become one in the eyes of my people…is this something that you can accept?"

She smiled genuinely at him truly touched that he was so concerned about her own feelings in this beautiful moment. There was nothing else in the world that she desired right now more than him, and she gauged that there never would be again. He had confessed his love for her oh so many times often without saying a word, let the world know of this. She didn't care or hold a single doubt, for she would belong to him always.

"Yes it is…you have shown me nothing but love and what real love is supposed to be. How could I ever doubt you or what you feel for me? You saved me life….and gave me a new one with you. I want to be with you….share everything with you…I have no fear".

He was left speechless at her most honest heartfelt confession and all doubt was erased, as he leaned in to place a kiss upon her smooth forehead before he again found her lips and lost himself in the feel of her caress.

TBC….

So very sorry about the lack of updates….I will complete this story, it still means a lot to me. My thanks to Enya for the inspiration her song Exile has made me love again. 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Don't own this….

Legolas awoke to the sound of dripping rain water his dark blue eyes flexing in the bright intrusive rays of sunlight. The night storm had passed and left only remnants of pools and droplets in its wake. He reached just behind him and pulled free a tie that held a thin veiled curtain bound to the wood post, it came free without much effort and quickly dimmed the brightness to but a dull shine. He looked then to his left and tucked there was the still sleeping for of Maven. Her dark features contrasted against his pale skin as he pulled her closer toward him, enjoying the sweet scent that was her.

He buried his face in the darkness of her hair and kissed her gently while she slept his mind still in mild disbelief at the events of last night. She had come to confess her past last night and he had been loathe to hear it, and yet he would have had it not been for her courage. Her strength to finally allow him in warmed him, made him realize all too much how it never really mattered at all. Her courage and faith in him meant far more and he prayed that she always would hold such strong feelings for him. For they had become one last night, and it was beautiful. And in all his many years of having lived upon the earth, and knowing a woman's embrace it was not until last night that he ever felt uncertain of himself. He had never loved so passionately before, in effect given so much of himself as he had with the young mortal woman nestled in his arms.

He would be with her forever for as long as the gods allowed it he would hold her to close to his heart every night from here after and rejoice in the sound of her breathing. His hand found its way to her smooth jaw and he began to run it gently back and forth, he had observed now from the sound of her heartbeat that this one gentle gesture caused her heart to flutter and draw the most interesting of reactions.

Within minutes she was awake and her dark lashes fluttered open quickly, taking in her surroundings and the strong scent of rain as it left the air itself thick with moisture. Her heart beat steadily in her chest as she looked up at him silently. A child like smile breaking free from her lips.

He kissed the crown of her head then as all words escaped him; he wanted nothing more than to just hold her close for as long as the morning would last, happy and content.

"Will we be like this forever?" she asked after a long moment had passed. He drew her closer and teased her ear with his fingertips and smiled, "yes my love we will….." and he trailed off as it occurred to him that he might very well be telling a lie. For she was mortal and he was blessed with long life….the Valar's gift of immortality. He didn't know how to ever explain how their love might endure some tribulations, but for all of it he was prepared. There was much to sacrifice when one of his kind loved a human.

"Will you never grow tired of me….?" She asked in quick succession, this drew a laugh from the elf prince as he looked on at her. "Will you never stop asking so many questions my love? So early in the morning? I am content to lay here with you all day and into the night, simply enjoying the sound of your heart beat…..and to see your smile".

Maven blushed as she pulled him closer; she was in her own mild state of disbelief at what had transpired last night. It was all so very beautiful every kiss every touch and loving caress, magic. She could never have imagined that that was what physical love was truly all about, giving and taking, taking and receiving. True magic, and yet the only regret she had was having not experienced it with him first. Inwardly she sighed; it had not been her fault that Gorn had soured her first. Deep down she had already begun to sort through that guilt and allow it to slowly ebb away. Legolas was right and things had changed and yet they had not. They had already been building up to this very sacred and intimate moment since the day she had arrived in Mirkwood. It was certainly no surprise to either of them as they had drawn steadily together all the while.

There was a knock on the door and both of them jumped at the harsh sound. Legolas sat up quickly and called out toward the door, "Who is there?"

"Sylvain your highness and your father has requested that you have breakfast with him this morning on the east veranda. He also requests that you bring the young woman, Lady Maven along as well…" and the servant paused for a moment as though listening or considering his next words carefully, "is there anything else Sylvain?" asked the elf prince as he looked down at Maven now tucked inside his shoulder.

"Yes your highness, I have just left the young maidens room and she did not answer her door. I knocked several times before returning with a chamber maid and going inside, the young woman was not there…."

"I see Sylvain….worry not and please advise my father that the young lady and I will be with him shortly, thank you".

"Yes your highness!" came the quick reply from behind the door and the servant to the king was away down the hall. Legolas turned to Maven with a quick mischievous smile, "It would appear that my father is ready to receive us and be the first to know. I am already sure that he has been ever after me with his spies…..in fact he may already know".

"Are you scared?" she asked in turn as she looked away from him, she didn't want to cause him trouble ever; it was truly starting to settle in that she was no longer the same young woman from the night before. She was made anew, and if what Legolas had surmised was true she was now akin to his 'wife' now in the eyes of his people. Much more than a lady…..something she could not bring herself to even imagine.

"Come, let us meet with my father and inform him of our new discovery". Maven smiled after him but there was now a strong sense of dread winding its way through her bones. Thranduil would not be ready to receive news of his son wed to a human; deep down in her soul she was frightened.

Thranduil sat alone at the head of a long ornate golden table on the east veranda, carefully placing his goblet of juice down in its proper place amongst the plates and silverware. He had the servants prepare a truly delightful feast this morning in the wake of the tremendous storm that racked the forest through out the night. It had seemed fitting to him now as he patiently awaited the young couple. This would be the last morning he would have to endure the pain of seeing his only son fade as he gave his undying love to a creature so far beneath him. This frail and weak human child who disappear into twilight while his son lingered on in pain….suffering. He only prayed that he was not to late that in wake of this morning all would be well.

He could endure his son's ire for many months, years if need be but it would all soon pass and he would again become himself. And in due time love again, the right way with a young elf maiden who was more than worthy of his attentions. And dare he hope for grandchildren, for it had been many years since a child was born among his kin. With the onslaught of war no elf in his or her right mind would spark new life when so many were being lost. But now in these times of peace it could become a possibility and breathe life back into the peoples of Mirkwood. This thought brought a genuine smile to Thranduils lips as he reached absently for his cup and drank deep.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall and Thranduil sat up more firmly in his chair in waiting. His trusted servant Sylvain soon appeared followed closely by the Prince of Mirkwood, clad in the silver tunic that was his alone in the kingdom to don, and atop his head a simple golden crown. The young prince bowed in kind toward his father before taking seat at his right hand side.

"Good morning father". He beamed as he reached for the goblet of juice that had been prepared for him. His father simply nodded his head and smiled before looking past his son toward the empty hall.

"Where is she?" asked the king after a long moment had passed. Legolas exchanged a curious glance with his sire before smiling mischievously. "Father?" Thranduil cleared his throat and sat back farther in his chair. "Do not play at words with me this morning my son, the girl you brought into this kingdom so many moons ago. I had also invited her to attend this lovely breakfast as well. Will she not be joining us?"

"The girl….Maven will be joining us very shortly father. Surely you must understand that women take greater care when presenting themselves to the world, she will be here soon I assure you".

Thranduil seemed satisfied with this as he sat back in his chair as far as he could in the space provided, intertwining his fingers as though waiting for the right moment. He could tell his son right now and await the reaction when the young woman did arrive fresh from her attentions. It would be a sight either way. He felt very little pity for her; after all she had been the one lying about whom she was or where she had come from. It was more than his right to know all about her and who she was the moment she set foot in his kingdom. His son was far too young and far too trusting and impetuous to think beyond what his heart was feeling. This would shame them both but given the passage of time he was sure all would heal. Now it was just getting down to the matter at hand, releasing the truth and waiting to 'heal' from it.

The barest sound of foot steps could be heard approaching from down the hall and both men sat forward as their identical eyes locked upon the hall to glimpse. Sylvain announced the arrival of the Lady Maven as she steadily approached the veranda. It was Legolas who spotted her first and he stood up quickly and gracefully away from the table to gaze in her direction. He had insisted that she take care in what she wore this morning as she was to be presented to his father in a way that commanded an entrance.

She came into view, with her dark brown hair hanging in loose curls down her back, a golden band hung tightly to her hair, and the soft pillow white dress she wore flattered her small form like clouds in the sky. Legolas was spellbound as he stared at her and unaware that was simply starring at her, locking gazes with her and rejoicing in the fact that she belonged to him, she held his heart and their were no more words to describe how deeply he felt for her. Thranduil was also left a bit speechless as he looked on at her, with her dark features contrasting in the white dress she wore. The circlet around her head was a tell tale sign that he had in fact been to late, his foolish son had already given his heart to the mortal women and he'd been a fool to have not intervened until now. A rage took him as his son rushed to the girl's side and escorted her toward the table, a glow on his face as he could only look in her direction.

The king of Mirkwood was on his feet now as he watched the young woman beam up at her son, they had only eyes for each other….perhaps he had been too late far more than he could have ever imagined. Sylvain had reported that the girl was not in her rooms when he had sought her; that her bed had been slept in and were tussled and the girl was no where to be found. Could it be…

"My son you've some explaining to do…." He began as he looked at them both, the girl shrunk away from the sound in his voice and refused to make eye contact. Legolas stood up straight as he turned to face his father. Confidence exuded from him as he met his fathers eyes with his own, assured that he was making the right choice.

"Yes father I do, and they also concern Maven. You see father I love her beyond any other creature, save for yourself father. I wish…I wish to make her my eternal beloved, to take her as my wife, through this life and the next…"

Thranduil was awestruck as he looked on at the couple, the girl was filled with shaky nerves as she refused to meet his eye, and his own son stood taller and more confident than he had ever seen. He towered down over the both of them as he filled with anger as though he had been secretly betrayed. He turned to look at his son, remembering his own true reason for the affair.

"I see my son….I understand that you _think_ you are in love." Stated the king as he mocked his son's stance and confidence. Legolas delicately shook his head and looked down at Maven, "No father it is you who do not understand. I love this woman, be she a mortal or a Harad Priestess I love her no matter what her station. And I will marry her….we share no secrets".

Maven felt her world crumble at the statement in those words for there were still secrets between them though she herself had desperately tried to release those demons last night, but her love brought her short and there had been no need. He loved her in spite of her past, he didn't care and they had agreed to move on toward a future. But for all her strength in the past few hours she felt it dwindle now at the mere mention of secrets. And the sinister laugh Thranduil was exhibiting now shook her to the core. But the atmosphere of the morning was soon to change as Thranduil peered harder into his son's eyes looming with every breath like a god about to strike.

"There are to be no secrets here at this table _either_ my son and we can start with her! Has she told you how she was to be found on that field the day you first saw her?" asked the king with not but cruelty and unkindness dripping from his tone. Legolas pushed past this fact acknowledging that he had found her near death on the fields, wounded and near death. He had managed to spot her from the fray and save her life, in fact it had been due to all his comrades that she had received the very best of care and survived.

"What does it matter father I found her and helped save her life, I would do the same for any lost soul battered in a field of war! Is this not the compassion you yourself taught me as a child, to care for those who are wounded to show compassion…mercy!?"

Thranduil ignored him and pressed on, "Has she told you of the Orc's and how her people fought along side them until they were betrayed? How she fought along side our enemy, the great enemy to all of Middle Earth while she lay whore to their minions!"

Maven felt all air escape her as the kings words reached right through to her heart and took root in her soul. The king knew….just how long he'd known she could not gauge….but he was wrong. She had not been a willing victim to the Orc's and the Uruk's she had been their slave, their captive while Gorn assaulted her night after night on end until she felt her mind would snap. How often she wished to die of shame and fright and how often it never happened. To have the events of her past she had just so recently laid to rest shoved back at her again with hatred and vehemence unhinged her. All she could do was sit perfectly still and wait again for the violation to be over.

"Father that is enough!" but the elf prince was now shaken as he looked on at his father, his father had always been forthright and honest with him. He was certain that he was not lying; perhaps every word that spilled forth from his lips was the god's truth. But did it matter, did it change anything. His resolve so steadfast only a moment ago was shaken as he turned to look down at Maven, he could read the evasiveness in her eyes, the pain the agony….the truth. Was his father correct and she had played host to Orc's and Uruk's…..he had longed suspected her torture and violation at the hands of the foul beasts. But was she willing, did she willingly help his enemy with her own body?

"Maven…is this true? Did you give yourself to Orc's and Uruk's in the service of the dark lord…please tell me the truth".

This could not be happening was all that ran through her mind, how could he even believe this for a second….how could she be made to feel victim all over again…anew like their love meant nothing. She shook her head no; she had not been hot to beasts…..but attacked by one. She would never willingly lay with an animal like Gorn and she was horrified that her beloved could think such a thing.

"Do not lie child, I have heard the truth from a close source!" spouted the King as he moved to stand just opposite his son so that he could get a clear glimpse of the shaking woman. "Reveal the truth and the shame you are enduring will be considerably less….the truth! Did you lay with Uruk's!?"

Legolas was speechless as he watched the two of them, obviously in on some secret he was not pertinent to. Perhaps last night she had been about to reveal that secret…..yes. Of course she was that was the reason for her tears, she was shamed. And yet she wanted to reveal it to him….only now where did it leave them.

And their future.

The weight of the whole world was pressing down on top of her as she squirmed in her chair as the pressure built to a crescendo. Her love was looking at her with mixed emotion as he gauged her every action or lack there of. It was if he was looking for her to reveal this all to be a mistake and being disappointed when no relief came. She hung her head away from him and tears spilled forth like never before. She had never meant for him to find out about Gorn this way, and she could not fathom how his father could be so utterly cruel! And yet she was trapped and the only way out was to give him what he wanted…..and let it end.

"It….it…is true…," she began as she watched the Kings face delight with sick satisfaction and Legolas, her beloved shrink away in disgust. She quickly corrected herself as she spoke over the King who was abound with the fact that he had been right, "please here me Legolas…..it was not as your father says….I was not a 'whore' to the Uruk…"

His cool blue eyes were distant as he listened to her and simply nodded, she tried to speak again but the King would have none of it. He spoke over her again until Legolas himself beseeched him to remain still while she ushered more of her truth.

"My people did answer the call of the dark lord like so many others….we were fooled….tricked. My sisters and I were pawns, used to lift our voices in song to aid our warriors, we were innocent. The Orc's turned on us….their allies before the battle began….all of our men lost their lives…as well as my sisters. I tried to save them but the Orc's were too great, too many…"

The two elf lords looked on at the human woman, one with hatred and the other with a lost countenance he hoped swiftly to regain, Maven continued, "We fought hard until we were defeated….I was the only one of my sisters to survive. I tried to get away but I was discovered....by an Uruk named Gorn".

"The truth at last!" stammered the King before turning his back to the two of them and waited for the young woman to finish.

Maven shrank back from his words before finding her own courage to continue, her voice was dry as she recounted the last bit of her sad tale, "Gorn towered over me, and laughed at my weakness….he had his men set camp and then-then he grabbed me by hair and dragged me to his tent where he raped me…"

"Dear gods Maven!" came the voice Legolas as he moved to be at her side, but his cool hands offered her no warmth as she shoved him away quickly. Soon after she was on her feet, clearly shaken as she looked longingly at her lover of only a night past, tears streaking from her eyes she questioned him with but a glance as she turned and ran away. The elf prince watched her go and off in the distance a loud clap of thunder rolled in over the horizon. The rains were back and his world would crumble.

He put one foot in front of the other and started after her when a hand on his shoulder brought him up short. It was his father, "let her go my son, she lied to you and you would so soon run after a liar. Gods only know what else she has kept from you…"

Legolas turned sharply on his father releasing himself before stepping away. "Father I love her and I pray that you have not cost me that…."

TBC…………..


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Don't own this….

Eomer sat alone in his study the one place within the confines of his kingdoms walls where upon he found peace and solace. There was a fire burning heavily within the hearth and the strong scent of honeyed ale permeated the air. It was cool outside and a summer storm was well upon the horizon. The air had grown thick with moisture as he sat back in his fur lined chair his mind ill at ease. Before him sat paper work that were for his eyes expressly, paper work that entailed peace negotiations with the wild men of the mark, men who had been called upon to aid the white wizard and had so reverently given their services murdering entire villages in their hope to gain favor and more power.

He loathed them and wished for naught but the opportunity to simply wipe them out in one nights raid, visiting upon them the horror and agony they themselves had so often wrought against others. And yet within his heart he knew that he could not, he was a man of honor of respect. He had only so recently gained the throne of his fore fathers, he could not bring himself to bring it shame and injustices by doing so base a thing. And yet it still burned within him every time he shut his eyes and could see the faces of those whom had been so turn asunder by the wild men. The men whose lives had been so cowardly cut short, the orphaned children as they wailed for parents that would not return. And for the women who did survive the pain of death only to be met with violation.

He swore that such mindless violence would never see the light of another day within his realm for as long as he sat upon the throne. His late uncle had also been a man of peace, of wisdom some say beyond that of the realm of men. And he would uphold this and carry on all that he could within his lifetime. With a sigh he absently reached for his cup of ale and drank deeply from its lip, losing himself in its strong bitter sweet embrace. With little effort he finished the mug and reached to pour yet another when the crash of thunder brought him to a pause and a loud knock resounded from his chamber door.

"Milord! Milord!"

The new lord of the mark sighed yet again as he absently caressed his brow in a soothing gesture for many nights now he had been hold up in his sanctuary, reacquainting himself with the comfort it offered so often when he was a child. "Yes Erich, what troubles you at this late an hour…" he asked askance. Erich had been his stable hand since after the war, a young man of fifteen and an orphan due to the rigors of war and the wild men of the mark. The young man had a way with horses and had also shown great promise with a sword. Skill with a blade was a staple of every man woman and child within Rohan as had been in the past and would be carried on in the generations to come.

"May I enter milord….?" The young man asked as he paced just outside the door. Eomer walked toward the fire and began to stir it with an iron poker just beside its base. "Enter boy, I do expect you have something urgent to reveal at this late an hour….your lord grows tired. The rains awaken aches in my bones that are better left undisturbed..."

"Ye-yes of course milord I understand" replied Erich as he very carefully entered the large room. He was small in stature, with a wiry frame tanned skin and wild dirty blonde hair that hung limply at the crest of his shoulders. His dark green eyes caught sight of his lord and he bowed quickly to pay his utmost respect. Eomer turned to face him eager to get to the bottom of this most unexpected visit.

"Speak boy what news do you bring?" he asked as he looked down at the young boy. Erich bowed again and then very carefully brought his eyes up to make eye contact with his lord. "I apologize lord for this intrusion, but you see the sage, the lady Mira says that a bird approaches an eagle sir. A rather large bird that weathers the storm….headed swiftly here against the rains…"

Eomer frowned finding little intrigue in something so simple until a flash of insight caught him and he was struck still for the briefest of minutes. He turned swiftly then and ran toward his window, pulling aside the storm shutters and squinting his dark brown eyes desperately trying to sight the bird on the horizon. But he was met with nothing but the dark and the swish of rain as it battered against the wood and mortar.

"Where and when does she expect this bird to land?" he asked frantically as he angled himself this way and that to look out the window further like some child eager to greet the dawning of a new day. Erich took a breath as he gauged his lord's reaction, there was obviously something of great importance to the arrival of this eagle, something that held his lord in a frantic grip and would not soon let go.

"Within the hour milord, just outside the gates…..in the valley…"

Eomer turned slowly as weighed his next few decisions with precise care and worry, the realty of what this all meant was painfully apparent. And a small part of him filled with warning as to the implications of what it could mean, what it would entail to welcome that which he knew would come in the coming days and months ahead. If it was the young maiden, Maven riding aloft with his eagle friend it meant only that the worst had happened. Or in the very least that she had in fact fled from something dire, in which case he would not relent upon his promise. His lands were open to her and so much more that he was uncertain of within himself. The young woman had captured a piece of his soul from the moment he had laid eyes upon her. It was a fact that frightened him as he had never before felt the like. And yet he had let her go with an open hand, a hand that had never even known her touch and burned with regret at the mere memory. If this was the god's way of a second chance he vowed he would not allow room to feel remorse again.

"Quickly now get a chambermaid and have my sisters room made ready to receive a guest. Start a fire and prepare a hot bath, have women's garments brought there as well, as many as can be gathered and place a guard at the entrance of the corridor. Go now!" He ordered as he paced back and forth before the fireplace. Erich nodded quickly arose to leave his lord and prepare all that he had been instructed.

With one last glance he looked toward the window and took due note of the rains and their intensity this night. His mind now brimming with questions as he left the room in a fury to greet Galena, his eagle and the small cargo he hoped she carried.

Maven could see the lights of the city as the bird circled now, her tiny arms encircled the thick limb that was Galena's mighty clawed foot. It was nearly as thick as a tree stump, only it was warm and filled with life. It offered her warmth against the chill in the night air and the whipping winds that accompanied the massive heights at which the eagle soared. The thunder was raging heavily within the clouds and she shivered and pulled closer to her new found friend and protector. Galena gave a small shriek in response and pulled her left foot closer toward her feathered torso in an attempt to soothe her small passenger. Maven shut her eyes as the city became clearer and clearer through the thick gray clouds, the whipping air causing her eyes to tear over from the icy unforgiving winds. Before long the city was upon them and the expanse of the open plains greeted them as Galena came to a final swoop before gently touching down, careful not to harm her cargo.

There was a small group of men there atop their horses to greet them. Eomer was at the head of the group atop a white steed. He slowly edged his horse forward his eyes intent upon the small woman that lay at the base of the eagles clawed feet. For a moment the lord of Rohan simply stared at the form of the young woman who still held on in a stony grip to the large animal, fearful it would seem from falling. He observed her quietly as his worst fears and suspicions had now had been confirmed. She was there, only a few feet away from him, her hair a tangled mess trailing behind her. It had grown had grown since he had last seen her, a fact that appealed to him. She wore a pale gown that clung to her lithe form and sent shivers down his spine, for it was clear that the garment offered her no shelter from the cold and the rain. He dismounted quickly then as he tugged at a thick blanket he bought from his own bed. Galena gently dislodged the human with a careful flick and Maven slid away only to be caught by Eomer, she was unconscious now and he cradled her with care.

He turned to face the eagle and bowed in turn, "I thank you my friend for bringing her too me, I am again in your debt".

The eagle cocked her head inquisitively before speaking, "It was my pleasure milord. I am always here if you should need my help again. The young woman was very frightened when I came upon her; she has never seen one of my kind before".

Eomer smiled as he gauged this and looked down at the young woman, "I would surmise that that is very true…please except my thanks again my friend…she is very important to me". Again Galena cocked her head this time to get a better view of the human woman before bowing in her own fashion and backing away so that she might take to the air. There was a grumble from the men behind Eomer as they observed the young woman cloaked in their lords arms. Many of them openly discussing her appearance and the way in which she was dressed.

Eomer looked down at the woman through near cloudy eyes and strands of his own hair whipping madly at his face but he could see her. She had never looked more beautiful to him as she did now, and he prayed that when she awoke that all would be well. However he knew inside that it was quite the contrary, for if all had been so well she would not be now within his arms. The elf prince had failed and the King of the Mark would not soon dismiss it.

Three Days Later….

It was just after sunset when she awoke, awakening to the sound of an old woman humming and the hard sound of foot steps upon stone flooring. Maven turned, and through the lids of her eyes she could see the hint of fire crackling followed by the heat it offered. She took in a deep swell of air as though she had recently been submerged under water. The air came in a cool rush as she took it in, her eyes finding focus but her head still awash in a haze. She could hear an old woman speak but the words came too quickly, to fast to discern. For a moment she thought her surroundings a dream, was she back in the white city? Had everything been some kind of dream….she leaned forward but found that her strength was remarkably absent. She almost fell before a pair of steady arms caught her and placed her back into a half seated position. Her eyes opened wide then as she turned to her right and was met with the sight of a bearded man…a man that was ever so familiar. She gasped as she recalled then in that short instance….

"Eomer…" she breathed as she looked at him carefully still somewhat doubting herself. He let out a sigh of relief as he stood back fully so that she might get a good look and confirm. He nodded in her direction as she smiled warmly at her; he was so relieved to see her stirring. It had since been three days and he was growing with worry.

"Please be still Maven….you were weathered by the storm and you had developed a fever. I have had Mira my healer look in on you…" he said as he motioned toward an old woman who was seated before the fire. The woman poked her head around from behind a fur lined chair and smiled, her eyes were empty and as cloudy as a river bank, the eyes of a blind woman. Maven nodded toward her before she turned to look up at the new king of the mark, and her eyes began to fill with tears. She looked away from him and tried to turn herself over, only to find that her body rebelled. She cried out in pain and Eomer was at her side at once, cradling her gently as he pulled her back into a comfortable position.

The old woman Mira stood up and made her way toward the bed eager to help, she moved with relaxed ease through the room as she stood just inches from the bed. "Milord, I can tend her now" she said with such a soft voice. Eomer took a breath as she held Maven within his arms; he was surprised to find that she was not frightened of him, just still…scared.

"No Mira….prepare a drink for the Lady, a tea with herbs….I will see to her. Go now" he said as the old woman bowed in return and then exited the room pulling the door shut behind her. He continued to hold Maven, a bit confused by her behavior. It was clear that everything was starting to come back to her, what ever ill event had led her to his lands was resurfacing and it would be ill news indeed. He soothed her with kind words as he assured her that she was safe as he pushed her gently back toward the bed and gently wiped away the tears from her eyes. She was crying softly now as she allowed his touch, her eyes still refusing to meet his own. There was shame there, shame and something else….regret?

"You need rest Maven…."

"How long…..have I been here?" she finally asked after a moment. He studied her carefully moving away to give her space.

"Three days" he replied. There was a short gasp that escaped her as she cradled herself from within the thick blankets. The events of the last few nights ran through her mind in a flurry, she had been about to confess her 'sins' to Legolas….they had made love. Thranduil had exposed her to her beloved…..and he had been….swayed. He had heard all of what had been said and had looked upon her with disgust, he was out of reach. Detached in that moment, said nothing as his father had torn open her heart and exposed all its secrets. She could recall it all now as her dark brown eyes filled with tears and remorse.

Eomer studied her closely as she sobbed just out of his reach….what had happened between her and the elf….what indeed to cause her to appear in his realm. To take shelter in yet another foreign land and in the company of a man she was at best unsure of. He knew one thing for certain however, he cared for her. His passions ran deep, as deep as any thing he had ever known before in life. He prayed that the he could keep her safe and with him for all that was left of the days of his life.

"He hurt you, the elf." He said suddenly, it wasn't a question but a statement, he watched how she froze suddenly, her eyes quickly wiping away tears that simply would not stop. She took a deep breath and pulled the blankets further in to cover herself. It was colder in the land of Rohan, unlike the eternal spring that enveloped the realm of Mirkwood. She took a deep breath and simply nodded in response. Eomer frowned and he walked closer to the bed, taking a seat on the edge furthest away.

He took great care with his next words, "Maven," he said as he studied her face in the growing fire light, she turned languidly toward him, her face child like and full of pain. "I will not ask you now of what transpired with the elf….for now it is perhaps best left unsaid. I will not have you think ill of me digging into you as such," and he paused, "however I will tell you this when days have passed and you are well enough I shall need to know. I shall _have_ to know what came to pass that brought you here, sick with fever and broken. Will you promise to tell me?"

She looked at him with large brown eyes and he could see the confusion in her face, she was torn and he could all but read it in her dark features. There was still love there for the elf, he could read it everywhere in her delicate face, feel it with his own heart. It set his blood to boil that the elf had so wronged such a delicate soul. He had made no qualms in the past with regard to the elf but now there was all the more reason to harbor a hate that had been in the making since the middle of the war. He also understood that in the near future that elf might venture to his realm to inquire after his 'beloved'. He would surely look forward to that day.

"Please?" he said in a hushed voice when she offered no response. It reached her and she nodded quickly and then, though ashamed turned her face away. Satisfied with her answer he stood up and prepared to leave when he heard her tiny voice.

"Do not hate him milord…..this was not his doing". She said weakly as she shifted in the large bed. Eomer let out a deep breath as he shut his eyes and took in her plea, she was sincere enough but it would not quell the anger he felt.

"Then why is you heart torn so?" he asked as he faced away from her. He heard her shift again within the bed and a soft sob escape her and as much as he wanted to go and comfort her, he turned and left the room. He simply could not bare the sight of her like this and he would so very soon learn all that had transpired.

Mira stood just outside the door a cup of hot brew in her hands she looked up in the direction of her lord. "I have brought a drought for the young woman milord, shall I give her a sleeping aid….to further release her fever?"

He turned to the old woman and nodded, "Do all that you can to get her well again Mira there is much she and I have to discuss".

"Yes milord" she replied as she bowed quickly and watched the lord of the mark walk away down the hall.

TBC…..


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Don't own this….

Eomer watched her as she sat idle at his table, it was supper time in the great hall and he had summoned his most trusted advisors and friends to celebrate the change in season. The chill in the air whispered of the coming winter and it had been nearly two months now that Maven had come to be in his care. He sought to her every need and every whim but could not yet bring himself to dig into her about what had transpired in Mirkwood. And yet his instincts told him that whatever it was…it was deep a hurt so deep that she had become withdrawn and closed off from the rest of the world.

He had seen laughter in her eyes once, laughter and life but now….now she was sullen and on edge, her eyes glassy and her form sickly. He had advised his attendants to alert him at once of her seemingly unstable health and they had been quick to respond. They spoke at great lengths of how the young maiden ate sparingly and was prone to illness in the evenings just after dinner. Her small form appeared to be withering away and his concern was growing by the day. This worried him a great deal. A toast had been raised in his honor and he reached for his cup raising it high, his eyes fixed on Maven as she looked up at him, her small features forlorn-withdrawn.

"To the people and friends of the mark!" he said as he downed the spiced ale and quickly called a close to the diner festivities. The kitchen staff arrived in due course and began to move away the items from the table, and yet he could not tear his eyes away from her. He watched her from a distance as she barely spoke, excusing herself before leaving the room headed toward her room. He exchanged pleasantries with members of his court before following her.

The long halls of his keep were lit with glowing torch light as he readjusted his eyes and followed down the hall he was sure she had taken. He very quickly found himself standing before her bed room door, and recalling himself a gentleman knocked and awaited her response. The room was still. He knocked again before his hand was at the door handle and he carefully opened it.

A fire was burning in the hearth; the bed freshly made and had not been slept in, the room empty. He stood at the entry way for a moment before turning and leaving the hall, there was perhaps one other place she could be. He found himself exiting a back entrance that led to the stables, his mind beginning to fill with worry. Was she perhaps leaving? He would not allow it, she was in no condition to weather another journey and he feared her loss like none other. Carefully he strode down the stone steps and crossed the short distance from the golden hall to the stables.

The door was open when he arrived there and he could hear the sound of someone retching inside. He pushed the opened doors aside as he strode in, causing some of the stabled horses to raise their head in alarm.

"Easy…easy…" he said as he walked past the first three stables to an empty stable located at the far end and to his left.

The waist high door was open and upon entering he was met with the sight of Maven hunched over emptying the contents of her stomach. She stood beside the stone wall, her head hanging as she was leaned over; one hand keeping her long hair from entangling on the floor. She was out of breath as she heaved again further releasing the contents of her stomach.

"Maven…." He said his voice barely above a whisper. Maven looked up at him sharply, tears in her eyes. There was such confusion in her dark eyes as she gazed at him. The great lord of the mark was frozen, worry now etched into the very core of his being. He took a step toward her when she stilled him with a hand.

"No milord please….please just stay away….I do _not_ wish you to see me like this". She said through a ragged and hushed voice. But he was not deterred as he continued on toward her, and watched as she quickly tried to stagger away but he caught her by her wrist carefully and turned her back to face him.

"You are ill Maven and you should rest, it is obvious that you have not fully regained yourself from your journey here. Now please let me take you to your room where you can recover" he said as he gathered her in his arms and carried her out of the stables. His tone was strong and left no room for argument. She found that she was too weak to argue, to beaten to care. None of it mattered much anymore, the fight. The endless fight that her life had been up till this moment, broken by the knowledge she was now painfully aware. And she could no longer see her way through the dark.

Later..

"Milord you can see the young woman now…."

Eomer was pacing, his posture somewhat stiff, anxious. He looked down at the old blind woman and tried to read the deep expression that lined her face. There was something very telling in the way she stood, the way she kept her face bowed in worry. Indeed whatever was plaguing Maven was….worrisome.

"Mira have you something to tell me?" he asked suddenly with disapproval and suspicion in his tone. The old woman bowed deeply before stepping aside allowing her lord the right to enter the room. She would not meet his burring gaze, "Perhaps milord should ask the young woman….this is a private matter…." She said as she further moved away. Eomer frowned as he looked down at the woman before storming past her and into the room. The room was bathed in light from the growing fire and Maven was sitting up straight in bed. Her face was empty as she barely turned to look at him. The lord of the mark shut the door and continued on.

There was a seat beside the bed but he was reluctant to sit down, there was a lot on his mind this night and he wanted an end to it. He had had enough of things as they had turned out, he had given her space and she had in turn become more withdrawn. Less likely with each passing day to open up to him. He had hoped that the space would have allowed her heart to at least start to settle, and find some measure of peace but it was not to be. She had pulled so far into the depths of her own pain that she was now sick with fever again and unable to hold down a meal. His emotions were getting the better of him and he would hear all that she had to say, be dammed with how she felt.

"I will have the truth Maven." he began and watched as her glassy empty eyes barely blinked up at him. She took a deep breath and just stared at him, and he couldn't recall ever seeing her so despondent.

"The truth my lord…?"

She sounded confused and this angered him, was she playing at some game?

"I make myself clear, the truth- your story with the Elf. I can no longer bear to see you like this. We need to talk of it; I would know at once why you have shut yourself away, keeping out the world and hope."

She let out a weak smile, "I have no hope left milord…."

He ground his teeth in frustration as she paced the floors trying to say the right things in this delicate of moments. He could lose her now if he hadn't already. She was breaking right before his eyes, sick with heartache and bile. He was not a man of outward emotion, and directness was the only way he knew how to get to the heart of any matter that opposed him. He prayed that it would not drive her from him and so his will grew hard as iron.

"You arrive, unannounced in the borders of my lands, at night alone on the back of my eagle. You linger in bed and waste away from a heartache that I have yet to know the truth of and grow weak in spirit to spite it all. Yes Maven, I would know the truth, I would know everything!"

She turned her glassy eyes away then as though burned, her breathing picking up and he could hear the slight wheeze, she was indeed sick with fever. And yet he was uncaring in that instant, his need for truth and fallacies had long since ended. There was no where left to run.

"You wish the truth my lord…..do you…?" she whispered.

Eomer grew still as he turned, caught by the delicacy in the tone in her voice. It was somehow different, cold and exposed. He hated himself for turning her into such a creature he himself could barely recognize but his heart was also sick….sick with worry.

"Aye…" he muttered as he stood his ground.

He could see her shiver, as she closed her eyes and saw as a shadow passed beneath her hooded eyes, a nightmare that she was again envisioning. He waited and watched as she allowed the nightmare to run its course, when she again opened her eyes he saw something so raw there that the Maven he knew seemed all but to shrink away.

"The truth my lord Eomer is that I have been a fool….for all my life I have been a fool. I have placed friendship and kindness in my people, faith in my goddess and devotion to my nation. And yet find myself victim to the horrors of war and men's…..men's lies…."

He could not understand her ranting and so he just stood there as she took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and continued.

"I was found on the fields that day by Legola-…..by Aarogon and the others…..found beaten and tarnished. You see I had survived, when all of my kinsmen and sisters lay dead, their bodies exposed- forgotten about in the hills of a foreign land while I survived….only to face the torture of the Orc's and Uruks…."

He wanted to stop her then as something twisted in his gut but he stood firm, keeping his eyes ahead of him planted squarely in her direction. If this was her release then so be it, he would not turn away.

"I was held for many days milord; at the hands of a mad man- an Uruk named Gorn, where I was tortured and raped…," she paused and then quickly continued, "I lost a part of myself that I would never again possess milord. My innocence, my soul was crushed that day."

Shock held him still as he allowed her words to sink in and guilt began to seep its way into his very soul. Oh how he had treated her. As though her very presence within the white city would bring its ruin when it had been her very shelter. He would do all that he could to offer her….whatever he could if she found it within her heart to forgive him. He felt himself shake with rage.

"Maven…."

"You asked me for the truth milord and I shall reveal it all to you, all of it," she whispered as she took a deep breath and began to quiver, "I wanted to reveal this to him, I did by all the gods but so many times I lacked the courage. Lacked the strength….until I understood that such secrets…such solitary pain could keep me from happiness, I wanted to reveal everything but I was too late. The king, oh how he's always…..hated me….he must have learned from someone, I know not whom and he revealed that which I could not…."

Eomer began to pace the floor as a swell of anger and frustration made him unhinged with want to do something, but not sure which action to take. To comfort Maven, to apologize for his treatment…to embrace her for the hell she endured at the hands of the enemy….to have words with the elf….

"And when he heard it from his father's lips he looked at me, looked at me as though I were filled with the taint of the most horrendous of evils….like he could not stand to be in the same room as one who had been….through such things…"

Eomer came to a halt as it all became so painfully clear, Maven was suffering from a broken heart, as much as was possible upon having her inner most secrets thrust out into the open, and the man that she gave up everything to love and place trust in had abandoned her. He found that he could broke no sympathy toward the elf only a deep seated hatred that was growing more with every breath.

"The elf prince is a fool Maven, a damned fool to have treated you this way when he should have been at your side….these tears you shed now- shed then in his company. Not mine."

"I…I am sorry milord…" she said with all but bitterness and humility leeching from her tone and turned to face her then in swift anger.

"Why do you apologize Maven?" he snapped and she could do little but shake her head as though to shut out the sound of the world and her own thoughts. Again he started to pace and a great sigh escaped him.

"It is your beloved who should seek forgiveness for having abandoned you…I tried to warn you Maven….did I not express to you that elves cared little for the hearts of human beings"

"Yes you did milord," she replied, "but my heart was set upon a path that I felt I had to follow."

Eomer sneered in spite of himself, "indeed Maven and look where your heart lies now, in tattered pieces within my kingdom."

Maven recoiled at the fury and venom in his voice, "please milord do not badger him, I know him to be a good man-"

"No! Maven he is not a good man, and by the gods why do you defend him? He has abandoned you are you not aware? I have watched you these past few weeks within my charge, watched as you have withered away growing pale and sick with illness for a love that was folly from the start."

"It was not folly milord…." She said quietly in her own defense and again Eomer was stunned by her devotion to a man who did not deserve it.

"Why do you defend him Maven, what more loyalty is there for you to retain?"

In that moment she looked up at him her eyes naked and caught between a myriad of emotion as she uttered words he was not prepared for.

"I carry his child milord….I'm pregnant."

TBC….

VERY SOON!


	24. Chapter 24

Don't own this…..

Chapter 24

He felt himself come undone by the pain of truth in her words, the agony expressed there as she said them. So clear the sound of her voice cutting right through him like a knife, one whose blade continues to wound long after it has been removed. He came to a halt before the fire place, unsteady and shaken. He was grateful in that moment that none of his people could see him now for he was greatly disturbed by this. He took a seat in the chair beside the fireplace and sat back hard against the cushions, a breath escaped him as he turned to glance into the fire and there was silence.

Maven let out a breath as she pushed herself up and out of the bed, moving toward the lord of the mark before coming to a halt just out of his reach, her linen gown billowing about her like a celestial creature. She held herself fast against the chill air, her hair left loose pooling at her feet.

"This news disturbs you…."

Eomer was silent as his soft brown eyes found wonders in the crackling of the fire light, he was shaken. For now there was little he could offer her now but his protection, what feelings of love he held stilled by the presence of a child.

"Aye…" he said in final response, "it does. How long have you known Maven?"

She took a breath,"Some time now…..a few weeks at the most….I didn't want to believe it but your servant confirmed it, and I know it to be true I feel different. Ill…."

"Does the elf know of this?"

She shook her head and was silent and he had his answer and with a sigh he arose from the comfort of his chair and moved to stand before her, gently reaching out a hand to caress the curve of her jaw and marvel at the smoothness of her skin. For a long time he just looked at her, with a newness a want, a desire to have her in the way that the elf lord had and feeling himself somewhat repulsed that it was to the elf lord she had given herself. After all that she had been through, the battle, her attack by the Uruk and her subsequent recovery, it was to the elf that she had allowed herself to love. And here he was, the man whom she could barely call a friend the one who would pick up the pieces.

"He need not ever know Maven; you can stay here in my lands. Live in this great hall and want for nothing for the rest of your life, and that of your child. I will protect you from you him and any others that dare to cause you harm….will you have me?"

Maven blinked up at him, "Milord?"

"Will you have me Maven, will you stay here?"

"Milord I am honored that….that you would let me stay…..but…"

"Then say that you will Maven, and you must decide quickly. Do you understand what is at stake if word should spread that you carry the heir to the throne of Mirkwood? Even if he is an Elf the law stands in any royal house hold that Legolas could lay claim to you. These are very serious affairs we now find ourselves in…..dangerous waters."

"Lay claim…?" she asked swiftly. She hadn't meant to cause strife upon revealing the baby growing within her, and she had not thought about Legolas and his royal lineage, he was unlike any other man she had ever met- human or elf. He was himself, so much so that she put aside his royalty and focused upon his kindness and love. But Eomer was right, she was carrying a royal heir and Legolas was ill informed as such. She didn't want to see him again, but her mind and heart were at war with one another. The logical side wanting to see him – reveal the truth. Allow him in, but her heart was broken and not so easily persuaded.

Eomer could offer a way to escape, to be forgotten about. After all it had been months since she had come to reside in the Mark and no one had come to look for her, no one would ever truly think to find her in the lands of the horse lords. Perhaps she could remain there….

The lord's gentle caresses brought her back to reality as she looked at him plainly, her eyes seeking his own as another question emerged.

"I do not repulse you? Even after all that I have revealed….Gorn….and what he did….my former allegiances before the war? This all means nothing to you?" she asked quickly fear in her tone.

Eomer sighed deeply wanting to hold her close but quickly decided against it, now was not really the time, he was only just now confessing what was in his heart. And there was time, for no one knew her where a bouts, she could love him in time.

"I will not insult you and say that it means nothing Maven, you were innocent. It was not your cause to march to war just as it was not your fault to have been attacked by the Uruk. You hold such strength within you, the kind of strength a good man needs at his side, firm and unyielding…..and…..I could never look upon you with anything but love Maven….can you not understand?"

A single tear escaped the corner of her eye as she realized for the first time that the lord of the mark was in love with her, not only that- but had been for some time. He had loved her from a far and she had never really known.

Shock washed through her and she found that she couldn't look at him, she backed away carefully hiding her face from him. He reached for again but caught himself, he would not frighten her if by his own words he hadn't already. She would need time, space.

"I should rest now milord." Was all she could bring herself to say as she moved backing toward the large bed, her gown rustling after her. He nodded silently watching her, so frail and so very precious to him.

"Of course, I will return within the hour to see that you are well."

She nodded and turned away from him, worry leeching into every pore of her being. This was the last thing she had expected to ever happen.

"Maven, think well on what I have said. You can have a life here if you wish, I would offer you my love and shelter you always…" he said and then was gone.

She felt her breath catch at the sincerity in his words and her hand absently traveled to her belly in wonder, her mind on the future and what mysteries it held.

TBC…..

VERY SOON


	25. Chapter 25

Don't own this…..

Chapter 25

The months passed and Eomer King of Rohan kept a steady vigil, for he was troubled. Maven the women he so loved was within his walls, under his care but would not return his love. Though she was not cruel, she was ever kind. Respectful and a lady by all means, but upon returning his love she would shrink away like a flower retreats from an icy wind. As the days would pass he would find himself within his private rooms, or in his study but no matter where he was his mind was always focused upon the woman he had lost his heart to.

He watched her from afar as she walked about his hall, clad in the colors and fabrics of his people. Her beautiful dark features clashing with her dark red tunic dress, her long hair set free to trail behind her, following her like a shroud. She spoke very little when out of her rooms, her face sullen, her stomach swelled, how he ached for her….how he yearned to love her. To remove the ache that was growing more with every passing day but at every turn she seemed to be pulling further away.

Another month passed followed by another and still he watched her, keeping his conversations brief whenever he was directly in her company. He would look in on her at night now, worried as he watched her belly swell with child. She was becoming more sullen he noticed the further along with child she grew- as though the realization was becoming something of a reality she could not avoid.

And so he resigned himself to ensuring her protection when he found that he could not retain her love, forcing his feelings to reside within the depths of his heart to keep himself sane, his eye to the frontier for the day someone would come calling for the young woman from the Harad.

TBC…..

Teaser chapter….


	26. Chapter 26

Don t own this...

Winter's chill was in the air its cruel icy grip unrelenting and unforgiving on the open planes. Three hooded figures moved against the back drop of a darkening sky- night was falling and there was no shelter in sight. The winds ripped furiously about the group, striking hard at the leader. His head was down, drawn close under the protection of dark robes. Blond hair lashed furiously about his face, obscuring all that lay before him. He was moving by sheer will, by the strength of a warrior and the keen sense of his mount. For twenty days now he and his group had moved through rocky terrain and hill tops moving in the direction of the horse lands.

This was to be their final trek of their journey as the dim hiss of light loomed on the darkening horizon, toward the city built on a high hill. He gripped the reins tightly and leaned in toward his steed, the white stallion that had endured so much in the time they were met. The stallion was returning home, he could tell the steed was anxious. Relieved, but no one could be more relieved than he was. For she was there.

A day did not pass that he did not think of her- of what she could be doing, how she was feeling or what she thought of him. He had failed to protect her, shattered their love by saying nothing. In that moment when the truth of her past and pain were reveled he had faltered. Looked upon her with disgust. It had taken quite some time to admit it to himself, to cope with the fact that she had been right. She was justified in running when he had left her exposed after his father used shame to gleam the truth.

He looked up from beneath his hood. The lights were drawing closer, the horses were nearing an excitement a restlessness that meant food, water and shelter. They did not need their masters to spur them on as they moved with a renewed strength toward the scent of their kind and the bustle of civilization.

He pushed ahead, drawing his heels in closer toward Hasufel and urged the beast on. If the rumors were true then this night would bring an end to his journey and heartache.

Meanwhile...

Eomer walked along the darkened corridor head bowed in thought, he had just left Maven's chamber she slept soundly in her bed huddled beneath layers of blankets. She was sick with fever. Mira her attendant sat beside, tea boiling on the hearth laced with medicine and herbs. The old woman was as loyal as they come and honest to a fault. He ground a fist in thought, the old woman was wrong. He turned past the golden hall, looking inside to catch the lonely trails of torch light dance on the floor mingling with the moons own ominous glow. He no longer cared to be there anymore, not when the woman most dear to his heart lay dying.

He was letting himself slip, his beard had grown wild his hair long and unkempt. His retainers urged him to take long rides in the hills, or venture to the White City to refresh himself. But none of it appealed to him, he was unconcerned with the lot of it if it meant leaving her. He found his throne and stared at it.

Since he was a boy he'd dreaded the throne, knowing that his beloved cousin would have to die a loyal and proud warrior to his king. Theodred was a gentle soul, one who would do anything to appease his father and died doing what he felt was true. Eomer hissed, what good was war now? It brought about peace but at what cost...

"Milord!"

Eomer huffed and sat upon his throne a grieving man, holding himself together day by day at the cost of sheer will. Every night since she took ill he sat waiting for the news, worn down by worry and the love that would never come. He sat back in the chair in pained thought and waited for the boy servant to emerge.

"Milord, milord!" the boy screamed as he found his king alone in the great hall. He threw himself to the ground and showed his respect before catching his breath.

"You make a lot of noise boy- what has you troubled so?" he asked while sinking back into the chair, as the days wore on it felt more like a prison than a throne. The boy turned a curious eye towards his lord, for the lord of the mark had changed. Once a man firm in his conviction, fair and strong he now sulked away. All but abandoning his court if not for some sense of duty. He didn't like seeing him this way and the entire realm knew who to blame for their kings gradual demise.

The Harad woman- the one that was now called a witch.

"Forgive me milord, it took some time to find you..." said the boy still languishing in an effort to catch his breath. Eomer waved a hand, in minor annoyance as he waited for the boy to impart his information.

"What is your name boy?"

"Ethan, son of Taben milord..." said the boy.

Eomer nodded and gripped the arm rests on the throne. "That is a good name, what news do you have for your king Ethan son of Taben?"

The boy lost his breath for a minute as he pondered how his lord would react to the news, that the great hall was not already filled with warriors and statesmen was already a sign that only he knew, and it frightened him. He knew his lord to be just but just how would he react when hearing that the elf lord approached. Taben took several more deep breaths before deciding that he needed to be rid of the knowledge. He bowed again and let the information slip out.

"Milord is to be advised at once that riders have been spotted approaching the great hall, riders cloaked in the dark robes of the green wood- Elves sire."

"Elves?" muttered Eomer as he sat forward brow creased hands twisting on the arm rests. He looked down at the trembling boy and narrowed his eyes. "Who has told you this boy? Where have you heard such a rumor?"

"It is not a rumor," came a voice from the dark of the hall as one of the elder guards emerged. The man bowed to his king and was followed by several other night guards.

"Speak quickly- what news is this of Elves?" demanded the King as he pushed away from his throne and stalked down the short flight of stairs to stand mid-hall. His dark brown eyes seeking out the truth from some one- anyone. He had waited for this day to arrive, and if it were true there would so soon be war. His mind cast long ago not to let the Elf lord near Maven, the immortal had wrought his own fate by abandoning her and he would be damned to let him take her back now.

"I am Garen, milord- one of many who watches the plains. I saw the riders this mourn but was loathe to report it until I was sure. I did not want to cause you undue stress milord..."

"I have informed the men in the towers to report any riders fitting that description to report it at once. You have failed in your duty Garen." spat the King. He was more unnerved by the news than he'd guessed but it was not the guard he was disappointed in- he was simply caught off guard by what lay ahead.

Garen bowed quickly, "forgive me milord..."

Eomer had started to pace and caught the gesture out of his peripheral, "rise- rise. I find no fault with you Garen," he said feeling a lot like his old self- change was in the air,"go and let them in when they arrive at our gates. Have an escort bring them into the hall. Leave them armed-"

Garen frowned and tossed his head, "Milord?"

"Do as I say- leave them armed but offer them nothing. Keep them within the great hall and tell them nothing. I will personally address their questions- I have longed to do this."

Garen bowed though confused and gathered the men at his back and they left the hall. The boy Ethan was still standing before the throne chair, frightened. Eomer walked towards the boy laying a hand on his shoulder.

"You have done well Ethan son of Taben, stand. You will assist me tonight when our guests arrive. You will be my messenger."

"Y-yes milord!" the boy replied as a nervous smile spread across his youthful face. Eomer nodded and turned towards the tack room, to dress for battle.

TBC...


End file.
